


Bruises

by hulettwyo



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2017-12-15 19:49:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 48
Words: 125,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hulettwyo/pseuds/hulettwyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pairing – Spike(William)/Buffy</p><p>Rating – NC-17 – Child abuse – Sexual situations.</p><p>Summary:  All human/AU – William is the new kid at Sunnydale High.  Buffy is the cheerleader that watches him from afar and notices that not all is well in William's world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Done For

Pairing – Spike(William)/Buffy

Rating – NC-17 – Child abuse – Sexual situations.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: All human/AU – William is the new kid at Sunnydale High. Buffy is the cheerleader that watches him from afar and notices that not all is well in William's world.

Author note: Ok, this is my first foray into all human Spuffy and to say that I’m nervous would be a gross understatement.   
This story clomped into my brain and set up shop and it’s been making me its bitch for the last month or so. I’m twenty chapters in and I promised myself that I wouldn’t post until it was complete, but I caved. I wanted to see if anybody is actually going to read it… so… here it is. Please let me know what you think.

Bruises  
Chapter 1 – Done For

Buffy watched him walk quickly down the hallway, limping slightly with his hands jammed deep into his pockets and his head down, his messy mop of long, curly hair covering most of his face. His worn jeans were torn in several places and his ratty, long-sleeved, black turtleneck sweater was at least three sizes too big and seemed to be trying to swallow him whole. His scuffed and battered black boots had a set of dog tags woven through the laces on the left one, and they bounced and twinkled as they caught the light from the overhead fluorescents.

She’d been watching Spike a lot lately… well… actually she’d been watching him since he started at Sunnydale High early last year. When he first showed up he was William – an almost exact replica… well… a younger version anyway… of Mr. Giles, Librarian turned Principal. He wore tweed suits and glasses, his longish hair was always neat and tidy, and he spoke with a genteel accent that had all the girls practically swooning at his feet. The killer cheekbones and sparkling blue eyes certainly didn’t hurt, either.

Of course, the bullying had started almost immediately. The first thing to go was the tweed suits. William started wearing black jeans and t-shirts emblazoned with the names of old punk bands that Buffy had never heard of. The second thing to go was the cultured, softly spoken accent. His speech became rougher and edgier, sprinkled liberally with strange and funny sounding British curse words that made Buffy giggle to herself whenever she heard them. The third thing to go was his glasses on the day before Christmas break. Those were crushed beneath a top of the line, ridiculously expensive, sports celebrity branded sneaker encasing the foot of one Riley Finn, quarterback of the school’s State Championship football team. William never wore his glasses after that and Buffy never found out if he’d decided to get contacts or if he’d just never gotten his glasses replaced. 

After his glasses had been crushed, the fourth and final thing had gone away. His identity. He’d come back from Christmas break wearing a long, black, leather duster and had started calling himself Spike. He’d refused to write anything but Spike on any of his assignments and wouldn’t answer at all to William, even if you were standing right next to him and shouting it into his ear at the top of your lungs. All in all, the transformation hadn’t taken long. He’d arrived at Sunnydale High in late October, and by early January, William was gone and Spike was there.

Buffy had watched him from afar but could never work up the courage to actually speak to him. Maybe she could have if he’d stayed William, but Spike scared her just a little. He was rough and abrasive and had stopped being the victim of bullies. He still got into lots of fights, but he was the aggressor, or at least that’s how he made it seem. He was always sporting bruises and scrapes and one of his eyes was usually black and puffy, so come to think about it… that probably ruled out the whole he got contacts thing. He’d always brag about what he called _‘the rough and tumble’_ and, according to Spike, the other guy or guys always looked worse than he did when the fight was over. Nobody that Buffy knew of had ever actually seen any of these fights, or the people that Spike had supposedly pounded into bone meal, but by St. Patrick’s Day, even without any actual proof of his prowess, Spike was the Big Bad, one of the most feared boys at school. Nobody messed with him, not even the ginormous linebackers on the football team. 

Buffy hadn’t seen him at all over the summer; it was like he’d just dropped off the face of the planet. And when school had started just over two months ago, the changes in Spike had been drastic. Gone was the duster, along with the bluster and swagger. He no longer bragged about fighting even though he still sported bruises most of the time. He only wore shirts that covered him completely, often several sizes too big, like he was wearing clothes that belonged to someone else. He stopped being loud and brash, only speaking when spoken to, and he kept his eyes cast down, like he was trying to be invisible. Buffy still noticed him, but it seemed that almost everyone else didn’t. 

He’d managed to stay off pretty much everyone’s radar for the first month of school until he’d had his first encounter with this year’s football team. It had been like a segment of some wild animal documentary. The lead predator suddenly freezes and stares at the herd, easily picking out the weakest member, the one most likely to go down without a fight. Prey sighted, the predator waits for it to wander away from the safety of the herd then slinks closer, signaling to the subordinate members of its pack, and they spring as one, taking the prey to the ground in a flurry of snapping teeth and slashing claws. The teeth and claws may not have actually been present, but by the time the offensive line was done, Spike looked like he’d been attacked by a pack of starving hyenas. The Big Bad was officially slain. He was gone from school for just over a week, and when he got back, the bullying returned to the pre-Christmas levels of last year. 

The jocks were relentless, but Buffy tried to distract them whenever she saw Spike trying to slip down the hallway un-noticed. She was usually successful and he got away unscathed, but she couldn't keep an eye on every meathead on the team, so Spike still got pummeled on a regular basis. 

She watched Spike out of the corner of her eye as he scooted past a gaggle of freshman girls crowded around a locker drooling over a picture of the hottie of the week. He lifted his head, flipping his hair out of his face, and her heart started beating faster at the sight of those to-die-for cheekbones and blue topaz eyes. Those eyes caught hers for just a second and her heart missed a beat even though they were flat and expressionless. She started to smile and he ducked his head again, his hair flopping back over his face. 

He’d almost reached the relative safety of his first class of the day when it happened… the thing that would change both of their lives forever. Liam ‘Angel’ O’Connor dropped his arm from around Buffy’s shoulders and stepped out from the throng of football players and cheerleaders clumped together in front of the trophy case. Buffy reached out, trying to snag his arm, but she was too late and her fingertips only brushed the smooth leather sleeve of his letterman’s jacket. Angel slid up behind Spike and snagged his ragged knapsack, jerking it backwards. Spike followed it, his head snapping up and his eyes wide and frightened as he slammed into the floor at Angel’s feet, his head bouncing off the toe of Angel’s shoe. Angel’s booming laughter could be heard the entire length of the hallway as he leaned down and sneered. “Whoops.”

“Leave him alone!” Buffy stepped up in front of Angel, placing one foot on either side of the boy lying on the floor, then she planted her small hands on Angel’s broad chest and shoved with all her might. Angel’s expression of surprise resulted in a chorus of snorts and snickers from the gathered crowd as the tiny cheerleader actually caused the hulking linebacker to stumble back a few steps. Buffy’s ankle brushed against warm, bare skin and she looked down at Spike, then twisted and looked behind her, eyes widening when they landed on his stomach. His too-big shirt had ridden up and left exposed a patchwork of bruises and welts… some faded, some fresh… all across his abdomen and crawling up his ribcage to disappear under the fabric.

“Jesus, Buff! What’s your deal? Do you even know this loser?” Angel started to step forward, intending to take his girlfriend’s arm and lead her away from the crowd to talk somewhere private, but her cold glare stopped him in his tracks.

“My deal is I’m done, Angel. Done. You’re never going to change, are you? You keep promising me that you won’t pick on people anymore… that you won’t play dickhead jock like the rest of the Neanderthals on the team… over and over you promise! And like an idiot, I believe you, and then what happens? You ‘accidentally’ bump Xander down the stairs and he breaks his arm! You promise again that you’ll stop. Then you break Oz’s bass! Do you have any idea how expensive those are and how long he’s going to have to work to replace it? No. You don’t. You don’t give a shit, do you? And again you promise. Then just yesterday you were picking on Willow! You’ve made her life a living hell, Angel, she’s terrified of you.” Buffy pointed down at Spike. “And now you attack William! He wasn’t doing anything to you! He was just walking along minding his own business!” 

Angel stepped back and glanced at the large crowd gathered around the supremely pissed off cheerleader standing protectively over the supine form of Spike. He’d tugged his shirt down, covering the bruises, and was just lying there, staring up at the fierce girl standing over him with her arms crossed over her chest. The glare that radiated from her face would be enough to make even the biggest and baddest rethink their plan, but Angel had never been what you would call the sharpest tool in the shed, so he stepped forward again and reached for her arm. “Let’s go somewhere else and talk. Okay, Buffy? Give me one more chance?”

Buffy shook off his hand with a growl of disgust. “Don’t touch me! We’re done, Angel! You’re out of chances! Now take your flunkies and sycophants and go do whatever it is you do when you’re not being a complete asshat!”

A deep, cultured, British voice floated over the crowd of students, “That would seem a wise course of action, Mr. O’Connor. Leave this area immediately and report to my office, I have a few things I would like to discuss with you. The rest of you… disperse.”

Considering the number of students gathered around, it really didn't take very long for them to disappear, leaving Spike, Buffy, and Mr. Giles alone in the suddenly deserted hallway. Mr. Giles stepped forward and leaned down to look at Spike. “Are you all right, Mr. Pratt? Do you require medical attention?”

Spike shook his head and murmured, “No, sir. I’m fine.”

Mr. Giles straightened up and looked at Buffy who was still standing protectively over Spike. “Miss Summers, could you be a dear and assist Mr. Pratt? I have a miscreant in my office that needs attending to and I would like to have a few words with you as well, when you’re finished.”

Buffy nodded, “Sure, Mr. Giles.” He dipped his head then turned and walked quickly down the hallway, pulling his glasses off and polishing them as he neared his office. Buffy looked back down at Spike and held out her hand. “Here, Spike, let me help you up.”

Spike – who up until this point had been just laying there, completely gob smacked by the fact that the most beautiful girl in school even knew who he was – finally realized that her legs were spread wide as she straddled his chest. And she was wearing a cheerleading skirt. His face burned into a deep crimson as his eyes traveled up her shapely, tanned leg and screeched to a halt at the bit of cloth clinging to her… 

Her snapping fingers drew his eyes up to her amused face. “Spike? I’m up here.” She stepped to one side and reached down for his hand, wrapping her fingers tightly around it, and then effortlessly pulled him to his feet. 

Spike took his hand back, flexing his fingers, “Strong little thing, aren’t you?”

She shrugged. “I work out.” He smirked and adjusted the knapsack that was dangling forlornly by one strap. The other one had been completely torn loose and was lying on the floor near their feet. She bent down and picked it up then held it out to him. “This goes to your bag, can you fix it?”

Spike slipped the remaining strap off his shoulder and pulled the bag around to his front, inspecting the damage. “Doesn’t look like it. Think the strap is done for.” He took the broken strap and stuffed it into the bag then shouldered it again and shrugged. “It’s all right. It’ll do. Uh… thanks.” She smiled brightly and his breath caught in his throat, his heart thumping so loudly in his chest that he missed her reply. He shook his head and smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, luv. What was that?”

She was still smiling… at him… she was smiling at him… and he had to force himself to focus on the words coming out of her mouth. “I said no problem and then I asked you what happened. Did Angel or one of the other football cretins do this?” She laid her hand gently on his stomach. 

He looked down at her small hand on his stomach, the heat from it burning through his thick shirt, then hid his shame-filled face behind his hair. “Uh… no. It’s nothin’. Uh… look… I should go. Thanks again… Buffy.”

She dropped her hand as he backed up a step then turned and walked the remaining ten feet to his classroom door. He peeked through the window as he opened the door then ducked inside, pushing the door shut quietly behind him. She looked down at her hand, still tingling from touching him, and with a loud sigh, made her way to the office.

XXXX  
Ok, there’s the first chapter. Please let me know what you think… *Holds breath and bites lip.*


	2. Suspended

Bruises  
Chapter 2 – Suspended

Willow gasped loudly as her eyes got huge. “You got him suspended? Because of us? He’s really gone for a whole two weeks?”

Buffy nodded. “That’s why you didn’t see me at all this morning. I was at the office filling out statements, and talking to Mr. Giles, and watching Angel’s parents glare at me… and then at him after he confessed to everything. Mr. Giles is probably gonna talk to you guys this afternoon, just to confirm what we told him, but yeah, Angel’s gone for the next two weeks, courtesy of my big mouth.”

Xander lifted his hand and knocked on the large black cast that reached from his palm to mid-bicep. “That may not be such a good thing, you know. He’s got friends… big, meaty friends… and they’re currently staring holes into the back of my head. I can feel it. Things may have just gotten worse and I’ve only got one good arm left.”

Buffy turned and glared at the table full of football players, daring them to say or do anything. When they’d all turned around or had dropped their gazes to the mystery meat on their lunch trays, she turned back around and smiled at Oz. “It’ll be fine. I even got Mr. Giles to ‘convince’ Angel’s parents to buy you a new bass. You just have to pick out the one you want at the music store downtown and they’ll bill the O’Connors.”

Oz tipped his head and smiled. “Thanks, Buffy.”

Willow sighed happily as Oz’s fingers twined with hers, “Two whole weeks Angel-free.”

Buffy laid her hand on Willow’s arm. “I’m sorry, Wil. I should’ve done something sooner, but he kept swearing he was gonna stop.”

Willow shrugged. “He was your boyfriend, Buffy, I get that, and thanks for trying to get him to change… even if it didn’t work.”

Oz asked quietly, “Did you really break up with him over another guy?”

Buffy laughed, “Well… yeah… but not the way you think. The breakup happened **over** a guy, but only because we were standing over a guy lying on the floor. I broke up with Angel because he’s an asshole and I just couldn’t deal with his crap anymore. You guys have put up with so much because I was trying to make it work with him and I’m sorry for everything.”

Willow smiled sadly. “We’d still get picked on, Buffy, we’re nerds. And apparently being friends with the head cheerleader doesn’t up our street cred any, and it probably brings yours down, being seen with us.”

Buffy wrapped her arm around Willow’s shoulders. “Who cares about cred? I love you guys and I’m not going to stop hanging out with you because of the vapid whores on the cheerleading squad or the mono-brow knuckle draggers on the football team. Their opinion of me means absolutely squat; it’s your opinions that I care about.”

Xander leaned in close and motioned to the rest of the group to do the same. “So… the guy on the floor… I heard about his bruises and stuff. Did the team use him as a tackling dummy?”

Buffy shook her head. “He said no and that’s not really their MO anyway. They’re more quick strike guys, hit and get away before they get caught. Not to mention they’ve got the attention spans of gnats… and Spike’s bruises… those took some time. Whoever did that was… dedicated… and they’ve been doing it for a while. Some of them were really old, all yellow and faded, and some were fresh, looked like they just happened.” 

Xander’s eyes went wide. “Spike? You mean Big Bad Spike from last year? The one that everybody at school was afraid of? That Spike?” Buffy nodded and Xander whistled quietly. “Man, I thought he moved or went to prison or something. I haven’t even seen him since last year. When did he get back and why’d he let Angel take him down?”

“He’s been here the whole time, Xan. We’ve got English with him. He always sits in the far back corner, kinda behind the bookshelf.”

Xander’s eyes took on a faraway look for a few seconds then he blinked. “Oh! Now I remember! Man, he doesn’t even look the same.”

Buffy nodded. “It’s the duster. He doesn’t wear it anymore and his hair is longer and all messy. His clothes are way different, too. It’s like they aren’t even his.” 

Willow smiled. “Somebody is all noticy girl. You seem to know a lot about him, Buffy. Is there anything you’d like to share with the group?”

Xander laughed. “Yeah, Buffster. Care to share? Does Spikey-wikey give you warm fuzzies? Does he make your heart go pitter-pat?”

Buffy smacked Xander on the arm, his unbroken one, as her face heated in a deep blush. “Shut up! He’s cute, all right? So I noticed that he’s cute, so what!”

Willow smirked. “But you’ve never said anything about crushing on him before. Is this a new thing?”

Buffy dipped her head and stared at the table. “No, I’ve been watching him since he moved here, but I’ve just been too scared to talk to him. He’s just so…”

Xander supplied, “Scary? Psycho? Dangerous? Well, not so much anymore, I guess. Buffy, you shoved a linebacker that’s at least twice your size, in front of half the school no less, and you’re scared to talk to one skinny English guy? Did you talk to him today after the Angel thing? Did he bite you?”

Another smack as Buffy giggled, “Yes, I talked to him, and no, he didn’t bite me. I don’t know why I was so scared before, he’s really kind of shy and he’s nice.” She looked between Oz and Willow. “Do either of you talk to Spike at all? Do you have class with him?”

Oz nodded. “He’s in Band.”

Willow nodded. “I’ve got him in Chemistry. He’s really smart, but this year he hardly ever talks… not at all like last year. Last year, nobody could get him to shut up. Mostly he just talked about fighting, but so far this year I don’t think I’ve heard him say more than a dozen words.”

Xander frowned. “Then how do you know he’s smart if he doesn’t talk about anything besides fighting… or at all?”

Willow shrugged. “His grades. I… uh… sort of… hacked into the school’s student database.” At the gasps of surprise she started babbling. “I wasn’t changing anything, I swear, I just wanted to know what Mr. Rayne gave me on the Chemistry quiz. He wouldn’t tell me and I was sure I failed it and I just had to know!”

Buffy giggled, “Calm down, Willow, you’re getting all apoplectic and it’s not a good look on you, but the splotchy kind of does match your hair.”

Xander grinned. “So… how are my grades?”

Willow tsked at him in a motherly fashion. “You don’t apply yourself, Xander Harris. If you spent half as much time on your school work as you do reading comic books, you’d have a 4.0!”

Xander shrugged. “School’s boring, comics aren’t. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to college. I’ll end up working at my Dad’s construction company, just like Jesse. He said he’s got my hard hat all warmed up and ready to go just as soon as I graduate.”

“Which isn’t for another year. We’re only Juniors, so you have plenty of time to do something about your grades. You could go to college if you wanted, Xan. You don’t have to go to work for your Dad just because your big brother did.”

Buffy tuned out the rest of the familiar conversation as she turned and gazed out the window at the quad, the sunlight glinting off the ridiculous fountain right smack in the center. Whoever thought that a pronghorn antelope should be the centerpiece of a water feature… in California… must have been smoking some good drugs… but hey… California. Buffy smirked at the fountain then lazily scanned the open area, sitting up straight when her eye caught on something dark huddled next to the wall of the gym. It moved slightly and she leaned forward and squinted as she tried to make out what it was. Her gasp startled everyone at the table as she suddenly jumped to her feet and raced out of the cafeteria.

She slid to a halt next to the crumpled form of Spike and her hand flew up to cover her mouth when he rolled over. “God, Spike, what happened to you?”

He groaned and worked himself slowly into a sitting position, leaning heavily on the wall at his back. “Nothin’. I’m fine.”

Buffy squatted down next to him then reached out and gently traced her fingertips over his swollen eye. “You don’t look fine… unless a black eye, a face full of bruises, and a puffy lip is the style now, and if that’s the case, well… then you look fabulous. Who did this?”

Xander's voice startled her as he squatted down beside her. “I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count.”

Buffy growled, “The football team.”

Spike shook his head. “Not the whole team, just Finn and Gates. They seem to think I’m responsible for gettin’ Peaches suspended.”

Buffy sniggered, “Peaches?” then swallowed the rest of her giggles and frowned. “I’m sorry, Spike. You got beat up because of me.”

He shrugged, trying to hide the wince the movement caused, but didn’t do a very good job. “No, I didn’t. I got pounded ‘cause I’m me. ‘S not the first time and it won’t be the last. Don’t fret over me, luv. ‘M not worth it.”

Willow stuttered from behind Buffy. “Sh..should I get the nurse… or Mr. Giles? Somebody?” 

Spike struggled to his feet then leaned down to pick up his knapsack. He hissed and winced then wrapped an arm around his middle as he straightened back up. “No. Don’t bother anyone. I’ll just go.”

Buffy stepped in front of him with her hands on her hips. “Go where?”

He looked at her out of his good eye and stammered, “Uh… ”

She stepped up next to him and gently draped his arm over her shoulders then took his bag and handed it to Willow. She motioned for Xander to move to his other side then looked up at Spike’s bruised and bloody face. “The nurse’s office. That’s what I thought you said. Let’s go.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Oz stepped quietly into the nurse’s office and set Buffy’s bag down on the floor just inside the door. “I brought your stuff and told your teacher you’d be late.”

Buffy looked up at him and smiled. “Thanks, Oz. You remember Spike?”

Oz nodded. “Spike. You’ve looked better.”

Spike squinted against the bright light and nodded at the blue-haired boy. “Oz. I’ve felt better.” 

Oz smiled, “Catch you later, man,” then backed out of the room and pulled the door shut behind him. 

Spike laid his head back on the table with a pained sigh. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I’ll be fine.”

Buffy snorted, “Right, and as soon as I leave, you’ll be up and out the door, won’t you?”

Spike nodded with a small shrug. “Yeah.”

Buffy leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “So I’m staying. Suck it up, Buttercup.”

Spike smirked at her. “Bossy little bint, aren’t you?”

Buffy grinned. “You have no idea. I didn’t get to be head cheerleader by being a shy, retiring, delicate flower. I’m loud and in your face when I need to be.”

Spike chuckled. “I know, pet. Had a front row seat to your scrap with Captain Hair Gel this morning, didn’t I? Why’d you call me William?”

Buffy blushed. “Oh… sorry, I know you don’t like to be called that, but I’ve… um… noticed that you keep trying to **not** be noticed… and I didn’t want to… give you away?

Spike nodded and closed his eyes. “Thanks for that, pet.” He was silent for a few seconds then his eyes popped open. “Wait. You’ve noticed me? When?”

Before Buffy could answer, the nurse bustled into the room carrying a handful of medical supplies. “I’ll get you cleaned up and then I’ll send you home, Mr. Pratt. You’ll need to rest for the next few days, so I’ll write you a note excusing you from classes. Do you want me to call your parents?”

Buffy frowned at the look of fear that passed over Spike’s face before he quickly masked it. “Uh… no. Don’t call… my Da works nights so I’ll just get home on my own. Thanks.”

The nurse frowned but nodded. “If you say so, Mr. Pratt.” She picked up a notepad and quickly scratched something down then turned to Buffy. “Miss Summers, please take this to the office and get Mr. Pratt’s class schedule. I’d like you to go around to his classes and collect any work he’ll need to do for the rest of the week.”

Buffy took the note and stood up. “Sure. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She darted quickly out of the office, leaving Spike alone with the nurse.

The nurse wet a cloth and gently sponged the blood off Spike’s face. “I know you insist that you fell, but I’m not buying it, Mr. Pratt. The bruising on your torso didn’t happen in a fall. Some of it is more than a week old.” She tugged down the collar of his turtleneck and lightly prodded the ring of bruises around his throat. “And these are in the shape of a hand. And they’re fresh. Again, not likely to occur in a fall.” She wiped away the last of the blood and sat back. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on. Who’s doing this to you? I know it’s from more than just simple bullying.”

Spike gritted his teeth and stared at the ceiling. “I fell.” 

The nurse sighed, “I can call Child Protective Services without your consent if I suspect abuse.”

He closed his eyes and clenched his hands into fists. “Please don’t. I’ll sort it. Please?”

The nurse patted his arm gently. “CPS could find you a foster family. You don’t have to keep enduring this.”

A tear slipped out of Spike’s eye and tracked slowly down his cheek. “I don’t want anyone to know… it would kill my Mum if she found out… she’s not well and she doesn’t have long and I don’t want her last days to… look… I’ve kept it from her this long… just please. I’ll get it sorted soon as she’s gone… I promise.”

The door to the office opened and the nurse quickly wiped away the tear then turned to face Buffy. “He’s almost ready. I’d like you to drive him home; he’s in no condition to walk. You do have a car, don’t you?”

Buffy nodded. “Uh… sure…”

The nurse scratched down another quick note. “Take this to the office. It’ll excuse you for the rest of the day. He’ll be ready to go when you get back.”

As soon as the door closed behind Buffy, the nurse turned back to Spike. “I’ll leave it for now because of your mother, but if you come in here looking like this again, Mr. Pratt, I will be calling… dying mother or not.” The nurse got up and started for her small office then turned back to Spike. “I hope you get it ‘sorted’ before he kills you.” 

She stepped into her office and Spike stared at the ceiling, another tear tracking slowly down his cheek as he whispered. “He’s not gonna kill me. He likes hurtin’ me too much.”

 

XXXX

Author’s Note: I know in the real world the nurse would have had to report Spike’s abuse instead of letting it go, but I’m going to claim artistic license for using her as a plot device. 

That being said, I have no firsthand knowledge of how the system works in the cases of abused children, having never been in that position myself, so I’m going to apologize now for anything that I’m probably going to get wrong. My entire bank of information concerning ‘the system’ comes from what I’ve seen on television and what my brain has contrived as being a possible situation.


	3. Early One Morning

Bruises  
Chapter 3 – Early One Morning

Buffy slid the passenger seat as far back as it would go then waited for Spike to sink down into her shiny red Mini Cooper convertible. She leaned down and scooped a pile of clothes off the floorboard then tossed them into the back. “Sorry it’s so messy. I keep forgetting to clean all the crap out of here.”

Spike smiled as he pulled his legs in and leaned back with a low groan. “No worries. Least you’ve got a car.” 

Buffy laughed as she lifted his bulging knapsack from the ground and dropped it into the pile on the back seat. “Yeah, it’s just the latest in a long line of presents from the _‘I suck at being a father, so to assuage my guilt here’s something expensive’_ store.” She walked around the car and climbed in then fastened her seat belt as Spike pulled his door shut. She looked over at him. “Do you need help with your seat belt?” He shook his head as he reached up with a wince and snagged the buckle. Buffy leaned over and took it from him then pulled it down and snapped it into the lock. “There. You’ll be glad you’re buckled in when you get a load of my driving. Buffy and cars are really un-mixy things, but this car is so cute I just have to drive it.”

Spike chuckled as he watched her slide the key into the ignition and start the car. “I’m sure you’re a fine driver, luv, ‘M not worried at all.”

Buffy giggled, “That’s because you’re high on pain meds. That pill she gave you was enough to choke a horse.” She looked over at him with a smile. “So… where to?”

“Sunnydale Memorial.”

Buffy quirked an eyebrow. “Are you hurt that bad? You told the nurse you were fine.”

Spike nodded. “I am fine. My Mum’s there. I visit with her every day ‘til Da shows up and helps the nurse bring her dinner.”

Buffy frowned sadly. “Oh… sorry. Uh… how long has she been there?”

Spike shrugged. “A while.” He leaned his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. “You’re right ‘bout the nurse druggin’ me, can hardly keep my eyes open. I’m gonna catch a quick kip, all right?”

Buffy nodded and looked over her shoulder as she backed out of the space. “Sure. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

Spike mumbled, “Ta, luv.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Buffy ran a few errands before she headed to the hospital so Spike could sleep. He didn't look like he’d gotten much sleep lately, and he just looked so peaceful that she hated to wake him, but… they’d been sitting in the lot outside the hospital for almost half an hour.

“Spike? Hey, wake up. We’re here.” She nudged his shoulder, trying not to jostle him too much because she knew he was in a lot of pain. “Hey, you in there? You’re gonna have to wake up ‘cause I am so not carrying your carcass into the hospital.”

Spike groaned and turned his head slightly, peeking at her out of his good eye. “No carryin’ required, pet. ‘M up.” He unbuckled his seat belt and stretched carefully, then ran his fingers through his hair, trying to straighten the messy curls. “How long was I out?”

“About an hour and a half. You looked like you could use the sleep.” Buffy reached into the back and drug forward a huge bag, plopping it onto her lap as she proceeded to dig through it. After several seconds of listening to the noisy shuffling of God only knows what, she lifted out a bright purple brush. “I knew this was in there! This’ll work better than your fingers.” She pushed the bag off her lap and got up onto her knees on her seat then leaned close and started dragging the brush lightly through his hair.

Spike was sure that his heart was just going to beat its way right out of his chest when her breasts brushed against his arm and shoulder. He closed his eyes and willed himself to keep his breathing steady and his thoughts on something not sexy, but he wasn’t having much luck. The gentle touches, the way she smelled… and oh God, they were pressing against him again. He clasped his hands in his lap, thanking whoever he could think of that all his clothes were a few sizes too big… the better to hide a raging erection with.

She worked from the bottom up, gently untangling each knot, then brushed his hair back from his face until it was smooth and tangle free. “There. Much better. Now you’re presentable… uh… not that you weren’t before… it’s just...”

Spike smiled at her blushing face, desperately hoping that he wasn’t blushing himself, and nodded. “Ta, pet.” He opened the door and carefully climbed out then reached for his bag. 

Buffy’s hand on his arm stopped him. “You can leave that in here if you want, unless you want to do homework or something, but if you don’t, then you won’t have to carry it all over. It’s heavy.”

He straightened up and looked at her in confusion. “But… I’m going to be here ‘til my Da collects me…”

Buffy smiled and sat back in her seat then pushed the button to raise the top. “I know. I’m coming with you.” When the top latched into place, Buffy climbed out and nodded to Spike to close his door. “Need to lock it.” Spike pushed the door shut and the car horn beeped loudly as Buffy set the alarm. “Okay. Let’s go see your Mom.”

Spike looked through the window at his bag then turned and looked up at the hospital. “Um… you don’t have to stay with me, I’m sure you have more important things to do.”

Buffy gently slid her arm around his and tried to tug him toward the entrance. “Nope. I’m responsible for you, the nurse said so, so I’m not letting you out of my sight. You could trip and fall, or walk into a wall or something because you can’t see…”

Spike snorted as he refused to let himself be tugged. When Buffy stopped trying and looked up at him, he asked quietly, “Why you doin’ all this? Bein’ nice to me? Why do you even care? I’m nobody. You’re the head cheerleader for Christ’s sake… I’m… a loser… like the poofter said… and the personal punchin’ bag for half the bloody football team. I’m beneath you.”

Buffy stood back and put her hands on her hips. It was becoming a familiar gesture in her dealings with Spike. “A. You’re not a loser. B. You’re not beneath anybody. And C. I’m doing this because I like you… doofus.”

Spike harrumphed and leaned back on the car. “You like me? That’s bloody funny, that is. Today’s the first time you’ve ever even spoken to me; you can’t possibly ‘like’ me. You’re doin’ this ‘cause you feel sorry for me, don’t you? The poor, pathetic, hey let’s pound on him some more loser. I’ve heard how those bloody piles of muscle talk ‘bout me. I’m not stupid and I don’t need or want your pity, Buffy. I can take care of myself… been doin’ it long enough, so just sod off and leave me alone.” He angrily pushed off the car and started stomping toward the hospital, muttering under his breath about entitled rich bitches and how they could all just get stuffed.

Buffy watched him go, her shoulders drooping as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Spike poked his head into the blindingly white hospital room, grimacing at the ever present smell of sickness that lay thickly in the air. “Mum? You awake?”

Anne turned her head slowly toward the door, a bright smile lighting up her thin face. “William? Yes dear, I’m awake.” 

She tried to sit up a bit, reaching up to pat at her thin and wispy hair, and Spike rushed to her side, a look of concern on his face. “Mum, don’t. Just relax. You know you don’t have to try to fix yourself up for me. You’re always beautiful… always.”

She reached out and patted his hand. “Such a sweet boy, my William.” Her smile turned to a frown as she took in the fresh bruises on his face and his swollen eye and lip. “What happened? You’ve not been in another fight, have you?” Her eyes flew to the clock on the wall and she started to struggle to sit up again, her face reddening with the effort as she gasped, “Have you been suspended, William?” 

Spike gently, but firmly, grasped her arms. “Mum, it’s all right. Just got into a scrap with some blokes at school and got sent out early. I’m fine and I’m not in any trouble. Please stop.” She collapsed back into the mattress, her breathing labored, and Spike sat down on the edge of the bed, clasping her hand in his. “I don’t want you to worry ‘bout me, you just concentrate on gettin’ well.”

She squeezed his hand and the lack of strength in her grip made tears spill from Spike’s eyes as she whispered, “I’m not going to get well, William… and we both know that.” 

Spike threw himself into her arms, being careful not to crush her as he wept into her shoulder. “I love you, Mum. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”

She gently rubbed his back and smoothed his hair as she whispered, “You’ll go on, William. You’ll graduate and go to University, and you’ll find a nice girl who will love you as much as I do. You’ll have a beautiful family and a wonderful life and you’ll make me proud. I love you so much.” He sobbed louder, clutching her tightly, and she started singing quietly.

Early one morning,  
Just as the sun was rising,  
I heard a young maid sing,  
In the valley below.

Oh, don’t deceive me,  
Oh, never leave me,  
How could you use  
A poor maiden so? 

Her voice cracked and her own tears flowed faster as she clutched her son and they cried together. 


	4. Blazing

Bruises  
Chapter 4 – Blazing

Buffy swiped at her face for what seemed like the hundredth time as she sat on the floor just outside the hospital room listening to Spike’s quiet sobbing. It had tapered off from the loud and anguished sobbing of about half an hour ago and Buffy thought that he might be just about sobbed out. A nurse walking down the hall paused in front of her and Buffy waved her on with a wan smile. “I’m fine. Just giving them a moment.” Buffy took a deep breath as the nurse walked away and swiped at the last of her tears then climbed to her feet and headed for the bathroom.

She splashed cold water on her face and straightened her hair and clothing then stared at her reflection in the mirror. “No wonder he was so scratchy and mean. His mom is dying and all the idiots at school have made him feel like he’s worthless, so he doesn’t believe that someone can actually just like him and not have it be about pity.” She squared her shoulders and put on her resolve face. “So I’m going to go in there and show him that I can be his friend. And I’m not gonna let him push me away, no matter how scratchy he gets. He needs someone to believe in him and that’s gonna be me.” She plastered a bright smile onto her face and headed back to Anne’s room.

She listened for a few seconds and, hearing only breathing, knocked lightly on the door as she opened it just far enough to poke her head in. “Spike?”

He sat up quickly, rubbing the sleeve of his sweater roughly over his face. “What do you want?”

Buffy stepped into the room and walked over to the bed, holding her hand out. “Hi, you must be Spike’s mom. I’m Buffy. Spike and I go to school together.”

Anne dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief then extended her own hand, grasping Buffy’s lightly. “Nice to meet you, Buffy. Yes, I’m William’s mother, and I assure you that I raised him to have better manners than this. You may call me Anne.”

Spike glared at Buffy as he slowly got up from the bed. “I apologize, Miss Summers, please excuse me. Is there something I can do to assist you?”

Buffy smiled at him, wincing inwardly when all he did was shoot daggers at her with his eyes. She swallowed hard and stammered out the first thing that popped into her head. “Um… you left your bag in my car.”

Those daggers stung a little as they continued to fling themselves in her direction. Spike turned away so his mother couldn't see his face then sneered at Buffy, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and in that moment, as his crystal blue eyes flashed with anger, she saw the Big Bad of last year. “I apologize again for my thoughtlessness. It certainly wasn’t my intention to inconvenience you in any way. Would you like me to retrieve it now?”

Buffy was somewhat taken aback at the tone of his voice and the look of contempt on his face, so it took her a minute to realize that he’d asked her a question. “Oh… uh… no. It’s fine.”

Anne was looking at Spike with a thoughtful expression on her face as he spoke to Buffy. “Obviously it’s not fine as you are presently here telling me about it, so I’ll just retrieve my possessions from your auto and you can be on your way, Miss Summers.”

Buffy just blinked at him, her resolve to not let him push her away crumbling like an old dry leaf under his withering gaze. She dropped her head then turned slowly toward the door. “Oh… okay, I guess.” She turned back to Anne, trying to keep the expression of hurt off her face. “It was nice to meet you, Anne. Um… maybe I’ll see you again sometime.” 

She turned toward the door again, flinching slightly at the seething anger emanating from Spike, then stopped when Anne spoke. “Buffy? You don’t have to go just yet. Actually I’d like to speak to you for a moment, if you don’t mind.”

Buffy glanced at Spike, noticing a muscle in his jaw ticking as he clenched it tightly, then she turned around. “Uh… sure. I can stay, I mean… if it’s all right with Spike.”

Spike turned toward the bed, his face melting from an angry scowl into a patient smile. “Mum, I’m sure that Miss Summers has prior engagements. It would be rude of us to impose upon her time.”

Anne waved her hand, “Nonsense, she’s already said that she can stay. William, would you be a dear and pop down to the cafeteria? I suddenly find myself thirsty for a hot cup of tea.”

Spike’s mouth fell open and he gaped at his mother then stammered, “Mum? I don’t think…”

Anne shot him a patented mother’s glare as she said quietly, “William.”

He ducked his head and muttered, “Yes, Mum,” then moved toward the door, shooting Buffy a glare over his shoulder that promised dire consequences… just as soon as they were out of sight of his mother.

As soon as the door swung shut behind Spike’s grumbling form, Anne patted the bed next to her leg. “Please have a seat, Buffy, and please excuse William’s behavior. It’s been a dodgy time for us all these last months and he’s trying to be strong for me, but he’s young and sometimes the gravity of it all overwhelms him.”

Buffy sat lightly on the edge of the bed and shrugged. “No big. I know he’s got a lot on his mind.”

Anne smiled. “Have you known William long? He never speaks about his school chums.”

Buffy blushed slightly, and even though she’d just met this woman, something about her called to Buffy to be completely honest. “Um… well, today’s the first time I was actually brave enough to talk to him… but I’ve watched him… since he… uh… moved here… but I was just too… uh… intimidated?… I guess… to… you know… speak.”

Anne frowned slightly. “William isn’t that unapproachable, is he? He’s always been a bit shy, which may come off as being aloof, but I know he’s polite and usually very well mannered.”

Buffy giggled nervously. “Well, it’s just that he’s so gorgeous, with the eyes, and the cheekbones, and he’s all… British, and he’s really smart, and when he’s wearing the duster and everything… he’s kinda scary.”

Anne laughed. “Yes, the duster. He went through a bit of a rebellious phase last year, as all boys do at one point or another, but he’s a good boy… a good son. It’s been hard on him since I came to hospital and I don’t think he quite knows what to do with himself. Are you finding him easier to talk to now?” 

Buffy nodded then shrugged. “I guess. I like being around him, and he’s really cute when he’s asleep, but I don’t think he really likes me that much. He told me that I’m only helping him because I feel sorry for him, but that’s not why. I do feel sorry that he keeps getting hurt, and I wish I could stop it, but I don’t pity him like he thinks I do.”

Anne glanced at the door then said quietly, “Tell me the truth, Buffy. Tell me about the fights. He insists that it’s just rough housing with his mates at school, but he’s been nothing but a walking bruise since we arrived here. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him without some kind of mark on him.”

Buffy gently took her hand. “He gets picked on a lot at school, mostly he just tries to be invisible, but sometimes they see him. Last year, when he was all scary Big Bad, nobody picked on him, but he was still all bruised all the time. He told everybody that he was fighting when he’d go out to clubs at night. His descriptions were really detailed… and kinda gory… but the bullies at school stopped messing with him… for a little while, at least.”

Anne looked confused. “But, that’s not possible. He never went out at night. He was always home when I arrived home from work, and he stayed with me because his father works the overnight shift and William refused to leave me alone in the house.”

Buffy’s mind worked quickly, fitting pieces together, and she looked up at Anne. “We get out of school at three. What time did you get home from work?”

“Just after six pm.”

“He wasn’t fighting at school, but he had three hours before you got home. Maybe he was fighting then?”

Anne shook her head. “No, his father started collecting him from school each day after he broke his glasses in a fight.”

Now Buffy looked confused. “Spike’s glasses didn’t get broken in a fight. I saw what happened. During first period Riley just snatched them off his face and stepped on them then walked away laughing. The principal called somebody to pick Spike up and take him home.” Anne’s face had gone completely white and Buffy looked at her in alarm. “Anne? Are you all right? Should I get a doctor or something?”

Anne blinked and clutched the blanket covering her legs tight in her fists. “That incredible bastard.”

Buffy flinched back just a bit from the sudden and overwhelming fury rolling off the frail woman. “What? Who?”

Anne’s eyes fell on Buffy and Buffy suddenly wished she was wearing full body armor. Make that fire-proof body armor. Anne’s eyes were blazing; screaming painful, bloody murder as she spat out, “William’s father.”


	5. This Ends Now

Author's Notes:  
Part of this story has been checked over for grammar and punctuation by the lovely epd4. I want to thank her for all her help and any errors that still exist are all mine.  
Behind Blue Eyes has given me great feedback about abused children and the system. With that being said, anything in the story that is not how things would work in the real world is all on me and not because of her suggestions.  
A few other people have sent me messages about their own experiences as abused children. I won't name them to preserve their privacy, but I wanted to thank them for their help and insights.  
Ok, on to the warnings. This chapter has descriptions of some of the abuse that Spike has suffered at the hands of his father. It's not overly graphic... but yeah... it's not overly pleasant, either.  


Bruises  
Chapter 5 – This Ends Now

A gasp from the doorway caused Buffy’s head to jerk in that direction. Spike was standing just inside the door clutching a steaming paper cup, his face stricken. The cup wobbled and hot tea sloshed over his hand. He jerked and dropped the cup, splattering tea all over the floor, then rushed forward, slipping in the puddle and almost falling before he righted himself and stepped up next to the bed. “Mum? What happened? Are you all right?” He rounded on Buffy. “What did you do? What did you say to her?”

Buffy stammered, “We were just talking… I don’t know… she just went white.” Buffy got shakily to her feet and backed away as Spike took her position on the bed, reaching out to gently unclench his mother’s fists from the blanket.

He smoothed the blanket as he murmured quietly, “Mum, please. Just talk to me, please.”

Anne blinked and reached for Spike’s hand, crushing it tightly. “William, why didn’t you tell me? It’s not your fault… but you should have told me.”

Spike tilted his head. “Tell you what, Mum? What are you talking about? What’s not my fault?”

Anne glanced at Buffy then focused on Spike. “Your father. He’s the one been at you, hasn’t he? It’s not boys from school, it’s that lying bastard.”

Spike gasped again, his eyes widening. “What? No! I get into scraps, Mum. Fights at school. It’s not Da.”

Anne reached up and gently trailed her fingers over the bruises standing out starkly on Spike’s paper white face. “Tell me the truth, William. Tell me now.”

Spike dropped his head and closed his eyes. “I can’t, Mum. I’m sorry, but I can’t. He’ll… I can’t.”

Anne looked up at Buffy and motioned to Spike’s face. “Buffy? How did William acquire these injuries?”

Buffy watched Spike’s shoulders and back tense up as she stammered, “Uh… some of the ones on his face are from Riley and Forrest. They attacked him earlier today, but…” Anne motioned curtly for her to continue as Spike’s shoulders and back got tenser… if that was even possible. “Um… but the bruises on his stomach and ribs… I don’t think those are from any of the kids at school.”

Anne nodded and looked at Spike. “Please remove your shirt, William.” Spike’s head snapped up and he started to shake it, but Anne shot him that steely mother’s glare again. “Don’t make me ask you again, William. Obey me now.” Spike’s fingers drifted to the hem of his shirt and he directed a pleading gaze at his mother. She narrowed her eyes and his shoulders slumped as he started to raise the garment. “Buffy, could you please close the door? William doesn’t need to put on a show for all and sundry.”

Buffy started then nodded quickly. “Uh… sure. Should I… um… go?”

Spike nodded vigorously but Anne shook her head. “I’d like you to stay if you would. I think we may require your assistance.” She patted Spike’s knee as Buffy pushed the door shut with a muffled click. “Please continue, William. I need to see what that bastard has done to you.”

Spike lifted his shirt slowly, wincing as his arms moved higher. Anne motioned to Buffy and she stepped up behind Spike and took hold of the shirt. “Here, let me help.” She lifted it carefully, waiting until he’d pulled his arms out of the sleeves, then slipped it over his head and dropped it on the blanket next to Anne’s feet. Buffy stepped back, her eyes tracing over the numerous bruises, scrapes, scratches, burns, and welts littering Spike’s back. There were so many that Buffy couldn't even pick out one square inch of unmarked skin. “God, Spike… how do you even move? How are you not eating painkillers like Skittles?”

Spike’s gaze was fixed firmly on the bed next to his leg as he shrugged. “Used to it, I guess.”

Anne’s eyes were shining with tears and her jaw was clenched as she ground her teeth together. “When, William? When did he start drinking again?”

Spike’s voice was barely above a whisper when he said, “He’s not drinking, Mum. I’ve never seen him drink anything.”

Anne’s voice was full of cold fury when she asked, “When did he start beating you?”

Spike flinched slightly at the venom in his mother’s voice, even though he knew it wasn’t directed at him, and whispered, “The first time was the day my glasses got broken. He collected me from school and when we got home… he started hitting me with his belt and when I tried to get away… that small room in the basement…”

Anne’s eyes went wide. “What room in the basement?”

Spike looked at her in confusion. “The one under the stairs… there’s a pile of boxes in front of it… you don’t know about it?”

Anne shook her head. “No, William, I don’t know.” She laid her hand on his knee. “Please continue.”

Spike closed his eyes. “That room… that’s where… he locks me to a post and hits me with his belt… and other… tools… but he’s never angry or pissed when he… he… he likes it… every day, Mum… he… every day.”

Anne looked up at Buffy and said quietly, “I need to hear everything, but if this is going to be too much, you can go. Thank you for all your help and I’d appreciate it if you could exercise discretion for the time being, at least until I can notify the proper authorities.”

Buffy shook her head and stepped forward, slipping up behind Spike and laying her hands gently on his shoulders. “I’ll stay. He’s endured all this on his own and if he can be strong enough to do that, then I can be strong enough to listen to it so that when it’s time to nail that son of a bitch to the wall, I’ll have all the facts straight.”

Spike gaped at his mother then turned and gaped at Buffy. “You both believe me? He said nobody ever would… he said that even if I told, nobody would care ‘cause I deserved it… I was bein’ punished.”

Anne grasped his hand tightly in her own. “Of course I believe you, William. And what he’s done to you is not punishment… it’s abuse… and he’s not going to get away with it. I’ll see to that.”

Buffy lightly squeezed his shoulders. “I believe you too, Spike, and I’ll back up whatever your Mom wants to do. I can help, too. I know some people. We won’t let him hurt you anymore.”

The door to Anne’s room opened and Buffy stepped quickly in front of Spike, shielding him from the nurse’s curious gaze. “Is everything all right in here, Mrs. Pratt?” She eyed the splashes of tea on the floor at her feet.

Anne smiled and nodded. “Everything is fine. We had a bit of an accident, but Buffy will tidy up in a bit. We were just having a family discussion, so would you be a dear and not let anyone disturb us for a few hours? We have some details to hash out and they will require my full attention.”

The nurse nodded and looked up at the clock on the wall above the bed. “Dinner will be here promptly at seven and your next treatment will have to be completed before then, so I can give you until… say… five-thirty? Will that be enough time?”

Buffy glanced at the clock… it was barely three. She turned back to the nurse as Anne said, “I won’t be having any more treatments. I had a discussion with the doctor early this morning and my decision should be noted in my chart, so please leave us undisturbed until my husband arrives. Thank you.”

The nurse nodded and closed the door and Buffy moved quickly across the room, avoiding the puddle of drying tea, and looked at the door knob. “Don’t these things lock?”

Anne shook her head. “No, but if you’ll pull the curtain around the bed, that will afford us some measure of privacy should someone enter the room.”

“All right.” Buffy moved to the curtain and tugged it around the bed, creating a small, intimate space. 

William looked up at his mother with terror stricken eyes. “You’ve stopped the treatments? Why, Mum?”

Anne said quietly, “They aren’t working, William. Nothing is, and I’d rather spend as much of the time I have left with you instead of taking useless treatments.” William dropped his head with a resigned nod as Anne shifted slightly, moving closer to one edge of the bed. “Buffy, if you would like to have a seat, I’ve made a bit more room. I think William will need support from both of us.”

Buffy nodded and climbed onto the foot of the bed as Spike scooted closer to his mother’s legs and pulled his own legs up onto the bed, folding them like a pretzel. Buffy slid forward, placing her legs on either side of Spike, then gently wrapped her arms around his middle. “Is this all right? I can move if you don’t want me touching you.”

He shook his head and leaned back into her just a bit. “No, it’s fine. It’s nice to be touched by someone other than Mum who isn’t trying to hurt me.”

Buffy pressed her forehead lightly into Spike’s back. “I told you I liked you, doofus, and it’s not because I feel sorry for you. Maybe you’ll believe me now.”

Anne reached for Spike’s hand again. “All right, William, tell us everything, and please believe that you’re not to blame for any of it, no matter what’s occurred. None of it was your fault, you didn’t deserve it, and we will believe you. Can you do that for me?”

Spike nodded as he pulled in a deep breath and started speaking in a quiet voice, “That first time, he only used his belt. He made me strip off my kit and pushed me over the back of the couch, then he started… whipping me. I stood up and tried to get away, but he hit me and knocked me out. When I came to, I was in the basement… tied up in the room… there’s a large, square post in the middle… I watched as he bolted two pairs of handcuffs to it… high up, near the ceiling… he locked me into those… and hit me with the belt… all over my back… and… uh… bum… and legs. I don’t know how long he beat me, but he finally stopped and told me how things were going to be from then on. He would bring me to the room every day and we’d have a ‘session’… that’s what he calls the punishments… He warned me not to tell anyone… because they wouldn’t believe me… and because…” 

He stopped and just breathed harshly for a few seconds as Anne lightly squeezed his hand and Buffy pressed a gentle kiss to an especially dark bruise on his shoulder blade. “He said that if I told anyone or if you somehow found out… then he’d start doing ‘sessions’ with you, Mum.”

Tears spilled from Anne’s eyes as she sobbed, “Oh William… I’m so sorry…” She lifted Spike’s hand and pressed it to her cheek. “My brave, strong boy. How did I ever get so lucky to have a son like you?”

Buffy’s tears were dripping down her face and onto Spike’s back. “God, Spike… I just… I don’t have words for how much I want to kill him.”

They all sat quietly for a few minutes until everyone had their tears under control then Spike took another deep breath and continued, “So… then he let me down and told me to clean myself up. I was in bed when you got home and I heard Da tell you about my glasses getting broken in a fight… I pretended to be asleep when you came in to check on me. After you’d gone to bed and Da had gone to work, I took all the money I had saved and snuck down to the shops. I’d been thinking all afternoon about how I was going to work this… and I came up with Spike and bought the duster to flesh him out… make him real. It was the only way I knew of to keep the truth from you, Mum. I had to make you believe I’d gone bad and was scrappin’ and mixin’ it up at school, and I started usin’ the marks Da left on me as proof at school that I was scrappin’ somewhere else. And it worked… the blokes at school left me alone, so I only had Da to worry about.”

Anne laid her hand gently on his knee. “William, I need to ask you something.”

Spike nodded and swallowed loudly. “What is it, Mum?”

Anne took a deep breath and closed her eyes, then opened them and looked directly at Spike. “Did your father… has he ever… touched you… inappropriately?”

Spike closed his eyes. “You sure you want to hear this next bit?”

Anne nodded and took his hand in hers, squeezing slightly. “Yes, William. We’re here… just take your time.”

Buffy tightened her arms around him just a tiny bit and laid her cheek on his back between his shoulder blades. “You were strong enough to survive it, Spike. We’ll be strong enough to listen.”

Spike took another deep breath and laid his arm over Buffy’s. She tangled her fingers with his then listened with her cheek still pressed to his back as he continued. “He didn’t go to work last night… I don’t know why… but after he’d used all his tools on me for hours… every single one… he locked me facing the post and told me that he had something ‘special’ planned for tonight’s session… that he was going to take my punishment to ‘the next level’ and he showed me a bottle of what he said was… um… lube… I started struggling… he’s never done anything like that before… he mostly leaves my… uh… tackle… alone… once in a while he’ll hit me there with something… but he’s never… I was trying to get loose and he punched me in the ribs then…” Spike stopped and dropped his head, pulling in deep lungfuls of air. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw then continued in such a low voice that Anne and Buffy had to strain to hear him. “He wrapped his hand around my throat and told me, in great detail, what he was plannin’ to do to me tonight… and what he’d do to you if I…”

Anne’s eyes got wide then narrowed into slits as she reached for the bedside phone. “This ends now. That pathetic excuse for a man will never lay another hand, or tool, or anything else on you. I’m phoning the authorities.”


	6. I Need a Favor

Bruises  
Chapter 6 – I Need a Favor

Spike laid his hand on his mother’s arm. “Mum, don’t… please.”

Anne put the phone down and grasped Spike’s hand. “I have to call, William. Your father has to be brought to justice for the things he’s done to you. And it has to happen now; I’ll not allow you to be anywhere near him ever again. I just thank God for whatever happened today to bring Buffy to us so that we can end this. I can’t bear to think about what would have happened had you gone home with him tonight.”

Spike dropped his head. “Mum, but… what if they don’t believe me? They’ll just send me home and he’ll come after you…”

Anne’s eyes were bits of ice as she said with complete conviction, “They’ll believe you, William.” She motioned toward his torso. “One look at this… all these marks… they will believe you. They’ll have to.”

Buffy squeezed Spike’s fingers as her eyes glinted with fury. “And God help your father if he even **tries** to touch your mother.”

Spike let go of Buffy’s hand and raised his to his face, clawing at his hair. “It’s just… God! I don’t want everyone to know about this! I don’t think I could bear it… to walk down the halls at school every day with their eyes on me… knowing that they know how I just **let** him… how I didn’t fight… It’s bad enough that Buffy’s heard it all… I can’t imagine what she must think of me now.” He dropped his hands to his lap and just sat there, trembling.

Buffy reached up and lightly tapped Spike’s shoulder. “Sitting right here, you know.” She climbed off the bed and stood next to Spike then reached for his chin and turned his face to hers. “And you want to know what I think? I think you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met… and you didn’t **let** him do anything. You had no choice. You sacrificed yourself because that asshole threatened your mother. You’ve endured horrible, awful things being done to you every single day… by the man who’s supposed to take care of you and protect you… and you’re still sane, Spike… you’re still you. That takes strength… tons of it. If this had happened to me, I’d probably be curled up in a corner somewhere drooling on myself, not still taking care of my mom and getting good grades in school…” 

Spike’s eyebrow quirked in question and Buffy chuckled. “Willow hacked the school database; I’ll fill you in later. Anyway, back to my point. You’re a good person, Spike, and smart and funny and stubborn and insanely hot… even with all the bruises… and… I like you.” She leaned down and brushed a gentle kiss across his lips then stood back. “So… that’s what I think.”

Spike blinked then his tongue snaked out and lightly licked his lips. His voice was hoarse and cracked when he muttered. “Oh. Well… all right then.”

Anne reached for his hand and squeezed. “I like her, William. I really do.”

Buffy beamed at Anne and slid her hand down Spike’s arm then twined their fingers together. His eyes followed her hand and looked in wonder at their interlocked fingers as Buffy spoke. “Thanks, Anne. And just so you know, the person you need to thank for pissing me off enough to forget how terrified I was of actually speaking to Spike, his name is Angel. If he hadn’t been his usual dickhead self… well… let’s just say… I’m happy now that Angel is the way he is.”

Spike’s head snapped up and he looked at Buffy with an awed expression. “You… were terrified of speaking… to **me?** You… you’re… Buffy… you’re a cheerleader… you’re popular… you’re… God, Buffy, you’re the most beautiful girl to ever walk the halls of that wretched… and you were scared of me? You shoved that bloody huge poofter…”

Anne spoke sharply, “William! Language!”

Spike blushed and dropped his gaze to his lap as he muttered, “Sorry, Mum.” He sat there for a few seconds then looked up at her with an indignant expression. “Oi! Hold on a tic! Why am I bein’ chastised for rough language when she’s been cursin’ a blue streak?” He nodded at Buffy who was trying to hold in a giggle.

Anne smiled. “She’s not my child… you are.”

Spike smirked. “Point taken… now what I meant to say was…”

Buffy leaned down and planted a quick kiss on Spike’s lips, being careful not to press too hard. “Shut up, Spike.” She straightened up and smiled down at him. “Yes, I was scared to talk to you. You’re so gorgeous… and smart… and good at school… and you always use these humongoid words in class… you know, when you speak… and I didn’t think you’d want someone like me.”

Spike smirked up at her. “I seem to recall some little blonde thing using the word ‘sycophants’ earlier today. Properly, I might add. And whatever gave you the impression that I wouldn’t want you? You’re smart, Buffy… and bloody gorgeous… sorry, Mum… and I’ve seen how you take care of your mates. I’ve watched you since I first moved here… I just never thought I’d ever have a chance with you.”

Buffy laughed and wrapped her arms gently around Spike’s neck. “I’ve been watching you, too. Guess we’re both a couple of scaredy-cats.”

Spike leaned his head into hers then turned a suddenly serious gaze on his mother. “Mum, what’s going to happen to me? With you here and Da in jail… where will I go? They’ll pack me off to some foster family and what if they won’t let me see you?”

Anne tried to smile reassuringly. “We’ll work it out, William. You’ll be eighteen in a few months and then you’ll be able to decide for yourself where you go.”

Buffy straightened up and fished her phone out of her pocket. “I have an idea… well, a couple of ideas.” 

Spike looked up at her. “What are they, pet?”

“I told you I know some people, so first, I’m going to call my cousin. She’s a cop and she’ll know who to talk to and she’ll be able to keep it quiet. And she’ll believe you, Spike, this type of thing’s actually her job or specialty or whatever.”

Spike nodded. “All right, but what ‘bout the other? I don’t want to be landed with strangers that won’t let me see Mum. She hasn’t got long left, according to the doctors, and my birthday is too far off to be of any use.”

Buffy smiled and laid her hand gently on Spike’s shoulder. “For that I’m going to call my Dad.”

Spike’s head tilted. “Thought you said he sucked as a father… not that my own is a shining example… but why would your Da want to help me?”

Buffy laughed, “No, not Hank. He’s in Spain somewhere living it up with his slutty secretary. I’m talking about my step-dad, Giles. My parents are emergency foster parents, so he should be able to fix it so you can stay with us.”

Spike’s eyes went wide. “Mr. Giles? The principal?”

Buffy nodded as she flipped open her phone and started punching numbers. “Yep, the very same. He married my Mom ten years ago and moved us here, but I’ve known him since I was like three or something and he’s always been more of a father to me than Hank ever was.” She put the phone up to her ear and smiled. “Faithy? I need a favor.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Buffy pushed open her front door and called out, “Mom? Dad? I’m home!” She heard footsteps walking quickly from the kitchen and a matching set on the second floor coming toward the stairs.

Joyce descended the stairs, carrying a bundle of bedding, and met her husband at the bottom. “Rupert, would you please take these downstairs? I changed the linens in Faith’s old room because they smelled musty. It’s been a while since we had anybody in there.” She handed the bedding to Rupert and he dutifully turned and carried it through the dining room and into the kitchen. Joyce walked into the dining room and picked up a large pillar candle. “I’m going to go light this in Spike’s room. Make it smell nice.” She hurried up the stairs and came back down just as Giles stepped into the dining room. Joyce stepped forward and pulled Buffy into a hug. “Where is he?”

Buffy nodded over her shoulder as Joyce let her go. “Outside in Gunn’s car. He’s kind of freaked out a little… well, a lot. The police questioning took a long time and he had to tell them everything, which looked like it was pretty brutal, and then they made him go back to the hospital to be examined and photographed and everything, which also wasn’t a huge kettle of fun… at all. Faith was awesome, though. She let me stay where he could see me during the questioning so he wouldn’t be so wigged since his mom couldn’t be there, and she even told the doctor at the hospital to let me stay with him during the exam, except for the most… uh… intimate parts… uh… obviously. He’s just really tired, and in a lot of pain, and really embarrassed that you and especially Dad know what happened to him.”

Giles pulled off his glasses and started polishing as he glanced at the front door. “There’s no need for him to be embarrassed. You’ve told him that we’ve dealt with children like him before, yes?” 

Buffy nodded. “Yeah, I told him that you’re emergency foster parents and that we’ve had abused kids stay with us before, but he’s still freaked out. He doesn’t want anyone to know what’s happened. He’s just really wigged about it.”

“That’s quite understandable, as we’re all aware.” Giles reseated his glasses and stuffed his polishing cloth back into his pocket then nodded toward the stairs. “Faith brought over a bag of his things, they’re in the bedroom.”

Buffy looked apprehensively at her parents. “Did the arrest go all right? Are they going to be able to keep that… that… Gah! I can’t think of a word that’s vile enough to describe that… thing…” She clenched her jaw then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay… so anyway, are they going to be able to keep that **thing** locked up and away from Anne and Spike?”

Joyce smiled. “Actually, he tried to resist and Faith had to taze him after he attacked her and the two other officers. So even if the child abuse and assault charges and whatever else they can come up with don’t stick… which they will, I’m sure… he’s also got assault on a police officer and resisting arrest. Faith will make sure he doesn’t see the outside of a jail cell for a very long time.”

Buffy exhaled loudly as some of the tension left her shoulders. “Good. That’s good. Um… I’m going to go get Spike, all right? You already know that he’s been excused from school the rest of the week and I’m going to stay with him if that’s okay with you guys.”

Giles nodded. “That will be fine, Buffy. I’ll bring home your schoolwork, and if Spike would rather not see us just now, that’s fine as well. We can wait until he’s settled. Would you like us to go elsewhere while you bring him in?”

Buffy shook her head. “You can’t. Gunn said he has to give you some paperwork or something.” 

Joyce nodded. “The foster placement papers. We talked to Anne on the phone for over an hour and Rupert helped her draft the letter for the custody transfer. She’s a lovely woman and she just gushed about you, sweetheart. She swears up and down that you saved Spike. Your Dad and I are so proud of you, honey.”

Buffy smiled and blushed. “I didn’t really do anything… he just needed a friend… somebody to see him.”

Joyce laid her hand on Buffy’s shoulder. “You’ve done **something** , Buffy, something brave and selfless. Anne told us some of the things Spike’s been through… things his father did to him. I know you know more of what happened to him than we do and I want to make sure you can handle it. You’re very mature for your age, and I know we’ve dealt with things like this before, but you’re still young and this is something that most **adults** would have a hard time processing.”

Buffy laid her hand over Joyce’s. “I’m doing all right, Mom. Yeah… some of the stuff Spike told me about kinda squicked me a little, but he had to **live** through it, I just had to **listen** to it. I get that Spike definitely has the gold in the _‘whose life sucks more’_ Olympics and I just want to be there for him.”

Giles nodded. “That’s an admirable position, Buffy, but you need to understand that he’s going to be going through a lot of things… feelings… that he’s probably not used to having to deal with. His case is somewhat extreme… more so than what we’ve dealt with in the past. He’s been traumatized and manipulated and controlled by an authority figure. He’s been conditioned to accept that control and he may have difficulty making his own decisions for a while. He may act out or he may pull in on himself as he tries to acclimate to being in charge of himself again, so try not to take it personally if he doesn’t act the way you’d expect him to. I think the most important thing you can do for him at this point is just… listen. Help him if he asks for it or is clearly floundering, but mostly just listen to him.”

Buffy stepped forward and wrapped Giles in a hug. “I know, Dad. I’ll try to follow his lead and I’ll make sure to let him know that he can tell me anything. Thanks for fixing it so he can stay here, too. He was really worried about not being allowed to go see his mom… he can still go visit her whenever he wants, right?”

Rupert nodded. “Of course. We aren’t going to keep him from his mother.”

Buffy turned toward the door. “Okay, good, I’ll be right back with him… um… if you touch him, be careful… he’s covered in bruises and everything… pretty much everywhere… okay?”

Joyce and Giles both nodded and Buffy walked quickly out of the house and over to the car parked in the driveway behind her Mini. She opened the passenger door and squatted down. “Spike? Hey, wake up. We’re here.”

Spike blinked and lifted his head off the back of the seat, looking down at Buffy with a bleary expression. “Right.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, wincing a bit when he bumped his swollen eye. “Yeah… that did it. I’m up.”

Buffy laid her hand gently on his leg. “You ready to come in?”


	7. Chinese

Bruises  
Chapter 7 – Chinese

Spike looked nervously at the house then nodded slightly. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose. You’re sure they’re all right with me stayin’ here? I don’t want to be a burden or cause any trouble. I could just go home. My Da’s not there, right? He’s been taken?”

Gunn shook his head. “Sorry, Spike, no can do. You’re still a minor, so we can’t allow you to be on your own. It’s either here or a juvenile facility until Social Services can place you with a regular foster family, and as slow as the system works, you’d be eighteen before that happened. And yes, your father was arrested when he showed up at the hospital. They have him in custody, and if LeHane has anything to say about it, he’s going to stay that way for a very long time.”

Spike’s eyes went wide with fright. “At hospital? What ‘bout Mum? Is she all right? Did he get to her?”

Gunn laid his hand on Spike’s arm. “She’s fine. They took him before he even set foot in the building. He showed up at 6:30 on the dot, just like you said he would.” Gunn grinned widely. “Oh… thought you might like to know… he resisted… and Faith tazed him.” Gunn opened his door and got out, straightening his suit jacket as he stepped to the front of the car.

Spike smiled just a little as he thought about what Gunn had just told him, then he grabbed the bag from the pharmacy off his lap and climbed slowly out of the car, weariness evident in every line of his body as he straightened up and squared his shoulders. He walked to the front of the car and stopped next to Gunn, holding his hand out. “Thank you for everything, sir.”

Gunn sent Buffy a look, nodding his head slightly, and she moved unobtrusively toward her car, leaving them alone for a minute. Gunn grasped Spike’s hand and shook it firmly as he smiled warmly. “No problem, Spike, and I’ve gotta tell you, I’m surprised that you’re handling everything so well. Usually kids that have gone through what you have would be sedated in a mental ward somewhere or in jail themselves for doing something stupid… you’re one hell of a stubborn cuss, that’s for sure.” Gunn let go of Spike’s hand then gently wrapped his arm around his shoulders. “One more thing. Your fucking waste of skin father is lucky that I wasn’t there during the arrest or he would’ve ended up in a body bag.” Gunn grinned widely. “Probably better this way, though. He’ll get a taste of his own medicine in prison. Cons don’t look too kindly on child abusers. My own father found that out the hard way.” 

Spike looked at Gunn with wide eyes. “Your father abused you?”

Gunn nodded solemnly. “Yeah… for years… my mom and my sister, too. I didn’t have it near as bad as you… he’d only beat on us when he was drunk... which wasn’t every day… but I know some of what you’re going through, and you’re handling it a helluva lot better than I did.” He winked at Spike. “I turned into a badass street hood for a few years… almost ended up in the same prison as my Dad.” He slipped his hand inside his jacket then pulled out a business card and handed it to Spike. “If you ever need to talk to somebody that’s been there, here’s my private cell number. Call me anytime.” He squeezed Spike’s shoulder and looked at him intently. “Anytime, Spike. I mean that.”

Spike nodded, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he stuffed the card deep into his pocket. “Thanks, Mr. Gunn. I appreciate it.”

Gunn dropped his arm and smiled as he nodded toward the house. “Let’s get you inside; I’ve got a pile of reports screaming my name back at the office. And call me Charlie.”

Buffy had retrieved Spike’s knapsack from her car and was waiting by the front door when Spike and Gunn walked up the steps. Gunn nodded to her as he stepped inside the house, reaching into his jacket again and pulling out a folded sheaf of paper. “Mr. and Mrs. Giles, I’m here to deliver into your custody one William James Pratt, seventeen years of age. Do you agree to take custody of this minor child?” Rupert and Joyce both nodded and Gunn smirked. “You both need to say out loud that you do. I know, I know… but procedure is procedure and I’ll get strung up by my toenails if I don’t follow it.” He winked. “You both know how much of a stickler my boss is.”

Joyce laughed, “Yes, we know how he is. All right, Charles, yes, I agree to take custody of William Pratt. He’s more than welcome to stay here as long as he wants to.”

Gunn nodded and looked at Giles. “Mr. Giles?”

Giles nodded from behind Joyce. “Of course I agree. He is welcome in this house.”

Gunn grinned. “Good! We’ll just get him in here and I can get out of your hair.” He turned around and smiled at Spike, who was still standing on the front porch, his hands jammed deep into his pockets as he shuffled nervously from foot to foot. 

Buffy stepped inside, setting the pharmacy bag on the table by the door and dropping Spike’s knapsack on the floor underneath it before she snagged Rupert’s arm, leaning up to whisper in his ear as she dragged him to the door. “He won’t come in until **you** invite him in. Said it’s not proper.” She smiled at Spike as they stepped out onto the porch. “British people are so amazingly weird.”

Everyone chuckled at Spike’s “Oi!” and Rupert’s “I say!”

Rupert stepped up in front of Spike wearing a welcoming smile and held out his hand. “Good to see you again, Mr. Pratt. Won’t you please come in?”

Spike tentatively took his hand and nodded shyly. “Thank you, Mr. Giles. I appreciate you allowing me to stay in your home. I’ll try not to be too much trouble.”

Giles stepped up next to Spike and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. “Nonsense, dear boy, you won’t be any trouble at all. We’re happy to have you.”

They stepped into the house and Gunn smiled. “All right, here’s your stack of dead trees. Man, social work sure uses a lot of paper.” He handed the sheaf of paper to Rupert. “That’s the emergency order for foster placement and a copy of the letter transferring custody from Spike’s mother. Spike’s assigned social worker will meet you at the courthouse tomorrow at three to get the judge to sign off on the guardianship paperwork. She’ll also have a bunch of other information for you about applying for expense reimbursement from the state and she’ll give you his medical insurance card and things like that… which you already know, so I’m not sure why I’m telling you… but… there you go.”

Spike looked up from his position just inside the front door. “Guardianship? Social worker? Isn’t my Mum my guardian?”

Gunn laid his hand on Spike’s shoulder. “Your father’s been arrested and your mother isn’t able to care for you so Rupert and Joyce are your guardians. One of the documents in that stack transferred custody from your mother to them. She signed it earlier at the hospital.”

Spike’s face was stricken and he looked ready to bolt. “But she’s my Mum! You can’t just take her away from me! You can’t! I knew this would happen! I should’ve kept my soddin’ mouth shut! Now my Da’s in jail and my Mum’ll die alone!” His hand curled into a fist that he plowed into the doorjamb on his way out of the house.

Gunn darted after him and caught his arm, spinning him around just as Joyce rushed forward. She wrapped Spike in a fierce hug as angry tears poured from his eyes, then held him tight as he struggled against her. She said his name over and over until he stopped moving, then her hand settled on the back of his head, pushing lightly until it was resting on her shoulder. His arms came up to wrap around her, clinging tightly as she carded her fingers gently through his hair and said quietly, “Nobody is taking Anne away from you, sweetheart. She’s still your mother and she always will be. The custody swap is just so you can stay here with us instead of being shipped off to some state run juvenile facility. That’s all. You can see her whenever you want, I promise.” She pulled back and cupped Spike’s tear-stained face in her hands. “I’ll take you to see her first thing tomorrow, all right? I’d really like to meet the woman that raised such a fine young man.”

Spike closed his eyes and let Joyce pull him back into her arms. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Giles. I didn’t mean to act like a child and I’ll find a way to pay for any damage I’ve caused.”

She murmured, “Don’t worry about it, Spike; I’m sure the door jamb is fine. I’m more worried about your hand.”

He lifted the hand he’d punched the door with and flexed his fingers a few times then let it drop back to his side. “It’s fine.” He pulled in a shuddering breath and said, “I’m really sorry.”

Joyce hugged him tighter, still speaking quietly, “You’ve had a rough time and you have every right to be upset. Now, let’s get you back into the house, all right?”

Spike nodded against her shoulder. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Joyce chuckled as she pulled back. “Please don’t call me ma’am, Spike. I’m not quite that old. Just call me Joyce.” 

Gunn laid his hand lightly on Joyce’s back. “Looks like you’ve got things under control, I’m gonna jet.” He smiled at Spike as he stepped toward the front yard. “I’ll catch you later, Spike. Remember… anytime.”

“I’ll remember. Thanks, Charlie.” Spike followed Joyce into the house, quickly inspecting the door jamb for damage as he closed the door. 

When he turned around, Joyce smiled and nodded toward the stairs. “I’ll let Buffy show you to your room. Do you want something to eat?”

Spike swiped the sleeve of his sweater over his face as he shook his head. “No, that’s all right. It’s late and I don’t want to be any trouble… well… any more trouble than I have been already. I’ll be fine until tomorrow.”

Joyce stepped forward and took Spike’s hands in hers. “You haven’t been any trouble, Spike, and you’re part of this family now. So, as part of this family, you have to follow our rules. One of those rules is: when we’re hungry, we eat. Now, are you hungry?”

Spike nodded. “Yes, ma… Joyce.”

Joyce smiled. “All right. We’ve got soup, or I could build you a sandwich, or Rupert and I could run and pick something up.”

Spike glanced at Buffy, clearly asking for help, and she stepped up next to Joyce. “I could go for some Chinese, Mom, I’m starving. All the cops had was a box of stale donuts and crappy coffee, so I haven’t had anything to eat since lunch.”

Joyce stepped over and lifted her purse and keys off the hooks by the door. “We’ll be back in about thirty minutes. Buffy, please help Spike get settled and show him where everything is.”

“Sure, Mom. See you guys in a little while. Don’t forget my sesame chicken.” She turned to Spike as Joyce pulled open the front door. “Spike? Is there anything special you want? What’s your favorite?”

Rupert and Joyce stopped, waiting for Spike’s answer. He blushed and looked down at the floor. “Um… anything will be fine.”

Buffy reached for his hand and waited until he looked up at her. “It’s okay, Spike. You can pick whatever you want. Do you like beef or chicken? Do you want egg rolls or soup? Do you like rice?”

Spike glanced at Joyce and Rupert then focused on Buffy as he stammered, “Um… I like beef with broccoli and chicken fried rice and um… pork egg rolls, but if that’s too much, any one of those will be fine.”

Rupert took Joyce’s arm and started guiding her through the door. “We’ll get all three. You’re a growing boy, Spike, and you need to eat. We’ll be back shortly.”


	8. Kitten

Bruises  
Chapter 8 – Kitten

As soon as the front door had closed behind Giles, Buffy picked up Spike’s knapsack and headed for the stairs. “C’mon, Spike. Your room’s up here.”

Spike silently followed her up the stairs as he looked over the family pictures hanging on the wall. About halfway up he stopped and pointed to a picture of a young Buffy holding a baby. “The little bird looks like you, but who’s the sprog?”

Buffy stepped back down next to him with a chuckle and grinned at the picture. “The ‘sprog’ is my little sister, Dawn. This was taken the day Mom and Dad brought her home from the hospital.”

Spike glanced up the stairs nervously. “You have a sister? You’ve never spoken of her… least not that I’ve heard… and she’s here?”

Buffy nodded with a small chuckle. “Well, yeah. Where else would she be? Mom usually keeps her out of the way when we get a new kid… and it is kinda late, so she’s asleep in her room. And I don’t talk about her at school because A… she’s nine… and B… aside from sneaking into my room and stealing my clothes… which don’t even fit her, so I don’t know why she does… she’s not all that annoying… yet.” She took in the slightly frightened look on Spike’s face and laid her hand gently on his shoulder. “Mom will put her on the bus in the morning while we’re still asleep so you probably won’t even see her until tomorrow afternoon. And she’s really a good kid, Spike. She’s not all Damien or ‘Problem Child’ or anything. She’s just a little girl, so you don’t have to be scared.”

“I’m not scared… it’s just… I’m not used to bein’ ‘round young kids... well… girls… at any rate. She’s not gonna try to put makeup on me or anythin’, is she? Isn’t that what little girls do?”

Buffy laughed, “She might… guess we’ll just have to wait and see. Bet you’d look beautiful.” She winked at Spike. “She might even have you play ‘tea party’ with her… you know… because you’re English just like Dad. You should see him when he plays with her, perched on a little tiny chair holding a little tiny cup, it’s hilarious. Just don’t drink the tea if she makes it.”

Spike groaned, “A tea party? Do I have to?”

Buffy shook her head with a grin. “No, you don’t have to. Actually, she probably won’t bother you a whole lot. I’m pretty sure she’s still at the ‘boys are yucky’ stage, so the only ‘boy’ she actually likes right now is Dad.”

Spike let out a relieved sigh then looked at several of the other pictures. He smiled at a picture of Buffy with pigtails and ice cream all over her face. “How old are you in this photo?”

Buffy leaned down and grinned. “Five. That was in LA not long before we moved here.”

Spike lifted his hand and traced his fingertips lightly over the smiling Buffy in the picture. “You were very cute.”

Buffy huffed and raised her hand to her hip. “Were? As in past tense? I’m not cute now?”

Spike dropped his hand and looked up at her with wide eyes. “No… I mean, yes! You’re cute now. I didn’t mean…”

Buffy giggled and smacked him lightly on the arm. “I’m just messing with you, Spike. You’re pretty cute yourself when you’re all embarrassed.” She turned and started back up the stairs.

Spike smiled and followed her. “That wasn’t very nice, pet. Might have to tell your mum that you’re bein’ shirty to the guests.”

Buffy stopped in front of a door and swung it wide. “You’re not a guest, Spike. You live here, so I can be as ‘shirty’ to you as I want.” She stuck out her tongue then giggled and stepped into the room.

He stepped in after her, a retort ready on his lips, but it dried up as he looked around the huge room and took in the décor. Almost the entire room was done in red and black. The ceiling and walls were painted black with a wide, blood-red stripe that circled the room at chest height, and the carpet was a deep red with matching blood-red curtains. The king size bed, on the other hand, was dressed in a light blue duvet with half a dozen blue, lace covered pillows stacked in front of the black, wrought iron headboard. He looked over the numerous black-light posters that were hanging on the walls, his eyes getting progressively wider as they circled the room. “Skulls? Skeletons? Zombies? Vampires? Who used to live in here? And which mental institution or maximum security prison are they currently residing in?”

Buffy laughed as she dropped Spike’s knapsack on the floor next to a large black duffel bag. “This used to be Faith’s room. She was a little bit goth during high school and a lot psycho during college, and Mom just hasn’t gotten around to re-doing the room. We have two other empty rooms so this one hardly ever gets used when we foster kids.”

Spike stepped up next to the bed and ran his fingers over the duvet. “I understand the paint and posters, but this? It really doesn’t… uh… mesh… with the rest of the room.”

Buffy shrugged. “Mom changed the sheets and stuff. It’s usually an all black blanket with red satin sheets.” She watched Spike look warily around the room again then glance back out at the hallway. “You can have one of the other rooms if you want, but I asked Mom to give you this one ‘cause it’s the biggest and mine’s right next door. The other two rooms are a lot smaller and on the third floor with my parent’s room and I figured you’d rather be closer to me than them.”

Spike looked sheepishly down at the floor beside the bed and mumbled, “This room will be fine. I didn’t mean to appear ungrateful. I’m sorry, Buffy.”

Buffy stepped up in front of him and wrapped her arms around his middle, laying her head on his shoulder. She smiled when his arms lifted up and tentatively wrapped around her, then she snuggled closer and said quietly. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Spike. It’s been a really shitty day, hell, for you it’s been a shitty year and I know you’ve got to be exhausted.” She stepped back and looked him in the eye. “You can tell me anything, you know. Don’t worry about squicking me or if I’ll judge you, ‘cause I won’t. If you need to get stuff off your chest, just talk and I’ll listen. Also, if something is wigging you out and you need help, just let me know. Okay? You don’t have to handle all this on your own anymore.”

Spike turned away slightly and looked down at the floor. “You’ve done so much for me already… I don’t want to keep burdening you.” He took a deep breath. “I’m damaged, Buffy. I’m ‘bout three steps away from bein’ completely sack of hammers and I don’t want to put all that on your shoulders.”

Buffy reached up and patted her shoulders. “Hey, they may look small, but they’re strong and they can handle a lot. And if there’s something I don’t think I can handle then I’ll find someone to help both of us, okay?” She reached out and gently lifted Spike’s chin. “And you’re not damaged, Spike, not permanently. You’ve **been** damaged, but you’ll heal. And you’re not crazy, either… yes, I understand your weird British phrases and I’m telling you right now that your sack is still short a bunch of hammers…” Spike snorted and a small smile flitted across his face. Buffy smiled back. “You’re gonna get through this. Now, let me show you the bathroom and you can take a shower if you want.”

Spike nervously fingered his shirt. “Um… I don’t have a kit to change into…”

Buffy stepped over and lifted the black duffel onto the bed. “This must be yours. Dad said Faith brought some of your stuff from your house.” She started to unzip the bag then stopped and looked up at Spike. “Um… I’ll just let you do that. I don’t want to snoop through your stuff. Your bathroom is just through that door there. I’ll go check to see if you have towels and things for your shower while you dig out some clothes.”

Spike looked at where she was pointing and gasped, “I have my own loo?”

Buffy giggled, “Yes. This was the master bedroom when Mom and Dad bought the house, but they remodeled and added the third floor so we’d have more room, and Faith got this room ‘cause she’s older.”

Spike watched her walk into the bathroom then turned to the bag on the bed and finished unzipping it. He pulled out a few stacks of clothes and another pair of boots and set them on the bed then opened the bag wide and stared in surprise at the four items sitting next to a small tub stuffed with shampoo and the like. “Well, Faith’s thorough, I’ll give her that.” He pulled out the photo album and three books that he’d hidden in the attic crawlspace entrance in his closet, then held them in his arms as he debated whether or not he should leave them in the bag.

“You can put those wherever you want, and Mom emptied the dresser so there’s plenty of room for your clothes. If there’s more stuff you want to get from your house, I can call Faith tomorrow and see what she can do to make that happen.”

Spike looked up at her standing in the bathroom doorway then shook his head. “No, that’s all right. I don’t have anythin’ else. This is it. Faith got it all.”

Buffy eyed the clothes on the bed and the items that Spike was holding and her jaw dropped. “That’s it?

Spike nodded sadly and turned toward the nightstand, depositing the books on top and putting the photo album in the drawer. He fished Gunn’s card out of his pocket and slipped it into the front cover of the top book. “Yeah. My Da went through my room and binned everythin’ about three days after Mum went to hospital. The books and album were the only things I managed to save when he went down to get more rubbish bags. I hid them in the attic… I’m surprised your cousin found them.”

Buffy shrugged. “Faith’s very snoopy. She’s like a bloodhound or something, that’s why she’s such a good cop.” Buffy walked over to the bed and lifted an article of clothing from the closest pile. “He threw out everything? Why?”

Spike shrugged. “He said I didn’t deserve to have things and that I didn’t need them anyway.”

Buffy’s jaw dropped again. “Why wouldn’t you need your own stuff?”

Spike shrugged again. “After Mum went to hospital, the only time he allowed me in my room was to get dressed to leave the house. He even took the furniture out. The only thing in there was a box with my clothes in it.”

Buffy dropped down onto the bed, her eyes wide with shock. “What an incredible asshole!” She clenched her fist in the fabric she was holding then took a deep breath and forced herself to loosen her fingers. She unfolded the now slightly wrinkled garment and lifted it up. It was a ratty sweatshirt with a large hole in one elbow that looked to be about four sizes too big for Spike. She dropped it beside her on the bed and picked up another item, another sweatshirt that she didn’t even need to hold up to tell that it was too big. She sifted quickly through the rest of the clothes, finding exactly three pairs of threadbare socks, two pairs of jeans… complete with gaping holes… two more holey, too big shirts… and that was it. “These are **your** clothes, Spike? What happened to the punk t-shirts and the tight black jeans? And your duster? Or your tweed suits? You looked really good in those… you know… in a hot, brainy guy kinda way… not that you don’t look good in anything… just saying.”

Spike blushed at the compliment and looked down at the bed. “Da binned it all, even the duster, and got me these things at a lawn sale. Said it’s all I deserved.”

Buffy looked over the clothes again then peeked into the bag. “Um… you don’t have any pajamas… or… um… underwear.”

Spike’s face heated even more as he dropped his gaze even lower and looked down at his feet. “Yeah… um… they were binned as well. Da wouldn’t let me wear clothes at home… so no need for pajamas… and he said knickers were a waste of his time ‘cause it took me too long to get ‘em off when I got home. I wasn’t allowed to tighten the laces on my boots either, so they’d just slip off. I was to be starkers and downstairs in the room within five minutes of steppin’ in the front door.”

Buffy growled low in her throat. “And I’m gonna say it again. What an incredible asshole.”

Spike pushed the bag out of the way and sat down carefully on the edge of the bed like he wasn’t sure that he was allowed to do that. Buffy noticed the look of worry on his face and laid her hand on his arm. “What’s wrong?”

He tensed and looked over at her. “Just unusual for me, is all.”

Buffy looked around. “Yeah, the room is kinda weird, but we can repaint it if you want.” She scooted fully back onto the bed and sat cross-legged then motioned for him to join her. “Scoot on up here and we’ll talk color schemes until Mom and Dad get back with the food and then you can shower after we eat. I always sleep better if I take a really hot shower right before bed.”

Spike moved tentatively up onto the bed and faced Buffy as he crossed his own legs. “It’s not the room… it’s… the bed. Since Mum went, the only bed I’ve been on is hers at hospital.”

Buffy’s eyes went wide. “Where have you been sleeping?”

Spike dropped his gaze to the duvet and twisted his fingers in the hem of his shirt. “The room. Da installed two more pairs of cuffs near the bottom of the post and he’d lock me into those. Sometimes he’d leave me locked to the top of the post and I’d have to try to sleep standin’ up. Once, when he had to go out of town over a weekend, he restrained me in the downstairs bathtub and told Mum he’d taken me with him. I’ve never been so cold in my entire life.”

Buffy’s eyes were so wide that her eyeballs were in danger of falling right out of her head. “What about the hot water? You could’ve just kept running hot water into the tub… or did Mr. Incredible Asshole tell you that you couldn’t?”

Spike shook his head and a sliver of anger came through in his voice. “No, he didn’t tell me anythin’… he just turned off the water heater. He was nice enough to drain all the hot water from it ‘fore he left as well.”

Buffy closed her eyes and clenched her hands into fists as she took several deep breaths. “Okay… have I mentioned the whole incredible asshole thing?” She sat for a few more minutes, taking deep, calming breaths until she no longer felt like murdering someone. When she opened her eyes, Spike was watching her with his head tilted in a way that just made him look incredibly sexy. Buffy made a quick decision and scooted close to him, getting up on her knees, then she sat carefully in his lap and wrapped her legs around his waist. He was gaping at her with wide eyes as she laid her arms lightly on his shoulders and pressed her forehead to his. “Is this all right? Am I hurting you?”

His arms came up and wrapped loosely around her waist. “No… uh… you’re fine.”

She smiled. “Good. ‘Cause I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.” She pressed her lips to his as she threaded her fingers into his hair. He made a tiny noise as her tongue traced the seam of his lips, begging entrance, and she pulled back. “You okay?”

He nodded dumbly and she dipped her head, nibbling on his neck just under his jaw, then licked up to his ear and sucked the lobe into her mouth, biting down gently. His arms tightened on her waist and she felt his hands sliding lightly up her back. She moved back to his lips, nibbling gently on the bottom one, then slid her tongue into his mouth when it opened with a gasp. His tongue twined with hers as they explored, both moaning quietly as they tasted each other. When air became an issue, they broke apart panting and Buffy gasped, “Wow. You’re really good at that.”

Spike blushed and ducked his head. “You don’t have to lie to me, Buffy.”

Buffy slid one hand under his chin and raised his face to hers. “I’m not lying. Why would you think that?”

Spike’s face turned a deeper crimson as he stammered, “That was my first snog and it couldn’t possibly have been that good… at least for you. It was wonderful for me.”

Buffy smiled and pulled him into another deep, tongue tangling kiss, panting when they broke apart again. “Well, you coulda fooled me. You’re a natural, Spike. A toe-curling, spine-tingling, if we were standing up my foot would be lifting off the ground, natural.” The sound of the front door opening made Buffy turn and scowl at the doorway. “Damn. I wanted more Spike smoochies.” She turned back to Spike and gasped at the look of wonder on his face. “Are you okay? You look… well… kinda like somebody smacked you in the back of the head with a frying pan.”

Spike nodded and did a full body shiver then gave her a wide smile. “I’m bloody brilliant, kitten. Bloody brilliant.”

Buffy smiled and gave him a quick smack. “Good. Food’s here. Let’s eat.” She climbed off him and moved to the doorway then called down the stairs, “We’ll be down in a minute!” She turned around to collect Spike and smacked right into his chest. She let out a small ‘eep’ as his arms wrapped tightly around her and he dipped his head, kissing her until they were both breathless again. She laid her head on his heaving chest until their breathing returned to normal then murmured, “Mmmm… Spike lips… Lips of Spike… God, I could get used to this.”

Spike chuckled into her hair. “Me too, kitten. Me too.”

She looked up at him and lifted up on her tip toes to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I like it when you call me kitten. Now let’s go eat.”


	9. Dinner

Bruises  
Chapter 9 – Dinner

They stepped off the stairs into the dining room with their fingers entwined, both grinning like a couple of loons. Giles pushed through the kitchen door into the dining room carrying several plates and his eyes flew immediately to their joined hands. He lifted an eyebrow and Spike dropped Buffy’s hand like it had just caught fire and stepped backwards, jamming his hands into his pockets as he dropped his head.

Buffy turned and looked at him and was about to say something when Joyce stepped into the dining room carrying silverware and napkins. “Come and sit down, Spike. Buffy, could you please set the table?”

Buffy nodded and took the plates from Giles as Spike stepped toward the table, eyeing it warily. Buffy set the plates out then moved next to where Spike stood frozen; staring at the table like it was possibly going to bite him. She wrapped her arm around his waist. “What’s wrong?”

He glanced at her then looked back at the table and whispered, “Da didn’t allow me to sit and eat at the table. I ate standing next to his chair… far enough away that he could admire his marks on me, but close enough that he could reach me with one of his tools when he wanted to make more…” He closed his eyes and clenched his hands into fists. “I know that he’s not here. I know that I’m allowed to sit at your table… I just…” He opened his eyes and looked imploringly at Buffy. “Will you help me?”

Buffy nodded. “Of course I will. What do you need me to do?”

He ducked his head close to hers and spoke in a voice filled with shame. “Could you ask your Da to tell me to sit? If he orders me to… I’ll obey.”

Buffy closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to Spike’s. “God, Spike. If that… that… vile and completely disgusting fuckhead was here, I’d tear his arm off and beat him to death with it for making you feel this way.” She squeezed him lightly with the arm still draped around his waist, then let him go and walked over to Giles, speaking in a low, quiet voice. “Dad, Spike needs you to order him to sit at the table.”

Rupert glanced at Joyce and she nodded slightly then disappeared back into the kitchen. Giles stepped around Buffy and pulled out a chair from the table then started laying out the silverware. “You may sit, Spike.”

Spike nodded quickly and mumbled, “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” He stepped forward and sat carefully in the chair, keeping his hands in his lap and his head bowed.

Buffy pulled out the chair next to him and plopped down then started pulling boxes of Chinese food out of the several bags on the table. “You had the beef with broccoli…” She set a box down next to Spike’s plate. “And here’s the rice…” Another box. “And last but not least, three pork egg rolls.” She opened the Styrofoam container and tipped the egg rolls onto his plate. Spike flicked his eyes up toward the food, but otherwise didn’t move as Buffy started handing out the rest of the boxes and containers. 

Joyce walked into the dining room carrying a tray with a steaming pot of tea and several cans of soda. She set a teacup in front of Rupert then looked at Spike. “Spike? Would you like some tea? Or there’s Pepsi, Coke, and 7-up. I think we might even have some Mountain Dew in the kitchen.”

Buffy saw Spike tense up out of the corner of her eye and leaned close. “Spike?” He flicked his eyes at the drink tray and his brow furrowed. Buffy laid her hand on his thigh. “Do you like tea?” He nodded almost imperceptibly and she laughed quietly, “You’re English, of course you like tea. Do you want some?” Another small nod.

Buffy leaned in and snagged a teacup off the tray then poured a cup of tea and set it next to Spike’s plate. When he made no move to touch the food or the tea, she looked across the table at Giles and nodded toward Spike. He nodded back then said quietly. “You may eat, Spike.”

Spike looked up and met Rupert’s eyes for just a second then bowed his head. “Thank you, sir.” He reached tentatively for the box of chicken fried rice and picked up his fork. 

Buffy held up a set of chopsticks. “You want these or are you as completely hopeless with them as I am?” Spike put down the fork and took the chopsticks with a smile. He popped open the lid of the box and dug in with gusto, wielding the chopsticks like a pro. Buffy watched him for a moment then smiled. “Okay, mister. Make with the splainy. You look like you’ve been doing that your whole life! With rice even!”

Spike swallowed the food in his mouth and glanced at Rupert who gave him a nod. He turned to Buffy and grinned, “My parents and I spent three years in China when I was young. I can even speak a little Mandarin.”

Buffy grinned. “You’ve been to China? Wow, what was it like?”

Spike shrugged. “Don’t remember much, I was only four or five when we left, but I never forgot how to eat properly with chopsticks.” He set down the box and picked up his teacup, taking a long sip. His eyes widened then drifted shut as he took another sip. He opened his eyes and smiled at Joyce. “This is marvelous! It tastes just like Mum’s tea.”

Joyce laughed. “Thank you, Spike.” She nudged Giles. “One of Rupert’s conditions for marrying me was that I learn to make ‘proper’ tea. I think he would’ve put that in our vows if I’d let him.”

Spike laughed – an honest to goodness laugh, not nervous or forced, just relaxed and happy. “I wish Mum could taste this. She’s not had proper tea since she went to hospital. Their tea is passable, but compared to this, its bland dishwater.”

Joyce smiled warmly. “We’ll take her some tomorrow. I have a thermos that I use when Rupert has to go in early and doesn’t have time for breakfast. He says it keeps the tea at a ‘tolerable’ temperature.”

Spike blinked and swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. “That would be lovely, Joyce. Thank you.”

The rest of the meal was eaten in companionable chatter as Joyce filled them all in about a new shipment at the Gallery and Giles and Spike asked intelligent, informed questions about the pieces. Buffy had been eating quietly, watching Spike and refilling his tea cup whenever she noticed it getting empty, but her hand stilled over the pot at a stern glance from Giles. She picked up a can of soda instead and popped the top, taking a long drink. Spike lifted his tea cup, drained the last of the tea, and set it gently back on the table. He looked longingly at the cans of soda on the tray and Buffy nudged him gently then smiled and nodded at the soda. He took a deep breath and she saw his hand clench into a fist under the table as he gathered his courage. “Mr. Giles, may I have a Pepsi?”

Giles nodded without looking up from his dinner plate. “Of course, Spike. Help yourself.”

Spike picked up a can of Pepsi and popped the top, drinking down half the can in one go. He turned his head and discreetly belched into his sleeve then turned back to the table wearing a wide grin. “That’s brilliant. Haven’t had this in ages.”

Joyce smiled and nodded toward the kitchen. “You can have some any time you want, Spike, there’s always a few cans in the fridge.”

Buffy winked at Spike. “But just make sure you replace a cold can with one from the boxes on the floor or Mom gets cranky.”

Joyce threw a playful glare at Buffy. “So what are your plans for tomorrow? We’re going to go see Anne first thing then I have to go to the Gallery to finish unpacking that shipment so I can be at the courthouse by three to meet with Spike’s social worker.”

Buffy smiled at Spike. “Well, after we see Anne… if Spike’s up for it… I’m gonna take him on a mall crawl and spend some of Hank’s money.” Spike’s eyes went wide and he started to shake his head. Buffy laid her hand gently on his thigh. “You need some new clothes, Spike.”

He mumbled, “I don’t want you to waste your money buyin’ me things, Buffy. What I have is sufficient.”

Buffy shook her head. “First of all, it’s not my money, its Hank’s. He’s the one that gave me a credit card with a $5000 limit, so I might as well use it for something besides gas and my car insurance. And secondly, the clothes you have don’t fit and they’re full of holes, so buying you new ones isn’t wasting money. And third, it’s been a while since I had a little retail therapy and I don’t need any more clothes right now.”

Giles snorted and muttered, “No. Clothing is definitely something you do not require… second only to shoes.”

Buffy yelped, “Dad!” Spike burst out laughing at Buffy’s indignant expression and Buffy couldn’t help but laugh right along with him. She threw a glare at Giles then turned back to Spike. “I don’t have **that** many clothes…” Giles snorted. “And I only have a few pairs of shoes…” Giles snorted again.

Joyce laughed, “You have enough to cover every teenage girl in this town, Buffy… twice over.” She stood and started gathering up empty food containers. “It’s late and Rupert has to be up early, so we should all get to bed.”

Buffy nodded and stood also, gathering the plates. “Dad, can Spike borrow a pair of your lounge pants? He doesn’t have any pajamas.”

Spike looked mortified and ducked his head, his face turning a bright crimson as he muttered, “Mr. Giles, sir… that won’t be necessary. I can just sleep in my trousers.”

Giles gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s quite all right. I have several pair that the clothes dryer seems to have shrunk, and I’m sure they’ll be just your size.”

Now it was Buffy’s turn to snort. “Yeah, Dad. Your pants don’t fit because of the dryer and not the huge cream cheese Danish you’ve eaten at your desk every morning for the last three years. Riiight.”

Giles got to his feet with a chuckle, “I stand by my assertion that the dryer is the culprit. I’ll gather them and leave them in your room, Spike. You’re welcome to them.” 

As soon as Giles had stood up, Spike had also jumped to his feet. He stared down at the table as Giles moved around it and quietly said, “Thank you, sir.” Giles reached out and lightly squeezed his shoulder then moved through the dining room toward the stairs. Spike started clearing the rest of the detritus from dinner off the table then followed Buffy into the kitchen and deposited his armload on the island where Joyce indicated. 

“Thank you, Spike, I’ve got it from here. Why don’t you head upstairs and take a shower if you like.” She winked. “But you’d better get in there before Buffy does or your shower will be cold. Scoot now and I’ll see you in the morning.” She stepped close and pulled Spike into a hug. “Good night, Spike.”

Spike wrapped his arms lightly around Joyce and laid his head on her shoulder. “Good night, Joyce, and thanks again for letting me stay.”

Joyce stepped back and lifted a hand to brush his hair out of his face. “You’re very welcome, Spike. Now you’d better run… Buffy just snuck out of here.”

Spike glanced over his shoulder and saw Buffy’s blonde hair flying behind her as she jogged for the stairs. “I’m gonna get the hot water first! Night Mom!”

Spike spun and walked quickly through the house then pounded up the stairs after her, laughing as he burst through the door to his room and slid to a halt. His room was empty, but apparently Giles had already been in because there were three pairs of soft, flannel sleep pants stacked on his bed. His door suddenly closed with a sharp not-quite-slam, and he spun around, right into Buffy’s arms. Her mouth quickly found his and his hands slid up her arms to tangle in her hair as the kiss deepened. 

She pulled away when they both needed to breathe and nibbled on his neck as she murmured against his skin. “Mmmm… Spike smoochies. Best dessert ever. Even better than chocolate.” She raised her head and smiled. “I’ll let you have the shower first and I’ll go figure out what I’m going to wear tomorrow.”

Spike smiled down at her and pulled her into another kiss, mumbling against her lips, “You can have it first, kitten.”

She nipped at his bottom lip carefully then shook her head. “Nope. You go first. Mom wasn’t kidding about the hot water thing. Once I get in there, I can’t get out until the water’s cold.” She kissed him quickly and pulled open his door. “My room’s right next door. Let me know when you’re done, okay?”

Spike nodded as she pulled the door shut then shuddered as the image of a naked, wet Buffy flashed in his mind. He muttered under his breath as he turned toward the bathroom. “Might be takin’ a cold shower after all.”

He stripped out of his clothes quickly, running on autopilot as he folded them neatly and stacked them in the corner of the room, idly thinking that he’d pick them up on the way up to his room after the session. He stopped suddenly, one foot on the cold bathroom tile, and his eyes widened. He growled angrily at himself and stalked back over to the clothes then jerked them off the floor and flung them across the room. His heavy boots thudded loudly against the opposite wall as the clothing landed in two untidy heaps, one leg of his jeans draped over the chest at the end of the bed.

He left them where they lay and snatched a pair of sleep pants off the bed then stomped into the bathroom. It had been a while since he’d been allowed to shower in anything but freezing water, so he turned the taps on as hot as he could stand and stepped under the spray with a groan of satisfaction. The hot water felt good… really good… except for where it stung the freshest wounds scattered around his battered and extremely sore body… but for the most part it felt… heavenly. He tipped his head back and sighed loudly then whispered, “Fuck you, Da. Just… fuck… you.”

He stood under the spray, letting it sluice over him as it washed away the blood, and some of the soreness, and the feel of his father’s tools hitting, slicing, and whipping. He let his mind go blank as the water beat down on his head and it wandered to before… before his Mum got sick… before California… just before.


	10. James

Bruises  
Chapter 10 – James

They’d been happy in London. William had attended an exclusive, boys-only private school and Anne had been a liaison for the British Consulate. They’d had a roomy, two-bedroom flat overlooking the River Thames, and William had many happy memories of spending evenings there discussing literature, history, and current events with his mother. William’s father had left them years before… he was an alcoholic… violent when he was in his cups, but never toward Anne. He’d only ever been violent toward William. They’d tried to make it work, his father had tried counseling and a stint in rehab, but he’d always gone back to the bottle.

The last time James had fallen off the wagon, Anne had come home from work one evening to find a naked William cowering in the corner of the kitchen, bloody and sobbing as his father stood swaying over him, clutching a belt in one bloody fist and a half-empty bottle in the other. Anne had pushed James away then scooped up her son and locked them both in the bathroom. She’d cleaned and tended William’s wounds then held him close as he sobbed against her. Both of them had listened as James had raged around the flat, practically destroying the entire place as he’d sobered up. Once sober, he’d knelt on the other side of the door for hours, begging forgiveness and promising to change, but Anne had stoically refused to listen to any of it and had insisted over and over again that he leave. And finally he had. He’d taken one bag of his clothes and other personal items and not only left the flat, he’d left the country.

William hadn’t heard hardly anything from his father after that, aside from the odd birthday card or Christmas present, but Anne had kept in touch. She still loved James; she just wasn’t prepared to put her young son in harm’s way, even to soothe her own aching loneliness. James had moved back to California, his birthplace, and had eventually taken over his father’s business when the man had died suddenly from a heart attack. James had gotten sober… and had stayed that way. He’d called and written and even visited Anne over the years… always when William was away at a school function… as he’d tried to persuade her back to him. 

Eventually, he’d worn down her resolve and she’d decided to give him another chance, being that he’d been sober for years and she felt that he didn’t pose a threat to William any longer. She’d packed up her teenage son and had moved them across the pond, taking up residence with a man William barely remembered. For the first few weeks James had pretty much ignored William. He was polite, but distant, and William had secretly thought that James blamed him for losing Anne all those years ago… and he wasn’t wrong.

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Seeing William again had stirred up a lot of feelings that James had thought he’d finally buried. It reminded him of how he’d felt when he’d beaten William as a small boy. The feelings of power and dominance that had flooded his alcohol soaked brain anytime his fist would land or his belt would leave a wide red stripe on William’s pale skin. When William had started coming home from his new school sporting bruises and black eyes, James had secretly admired the handiwork and even more secretly… in a small place in his mind, the existence of which he wouldn’t even admit to himself… he wished that he’d been the one to make those marks.

That small place in his mind had grown larger with every bruise, every split lip, and every black eye that William wore home. Then William’s glasses had been broken. James had been working the overnight delivery shift because he’d been unable to find someone he trusted enough to handle the responsibility and, being the owner of the company, it fell to him to keep things running. He’d only been asleep for about two hours when the phone rang. He had to go pick up his son. He’d brought William home, the boy apologizing the whole way as James tried not to stare at the puffy and slightly bleeding lip that he’d acquired during a before-school tussle with one of his many tormentors. That small place in his mind had finally grown large enough to influence his actions. As William had preceded him into the house, still apologizing, something in James had sprung free from where he’d been trying to keep it sequestered.

He’d ordered William to strip, standing in amazement as the boy had actually complied with his wishes, then he’d bent him over the back of the couch and slowly pulled his belt free. Those familiar feelings of power and dominance that had sparked and started to burn when William had removed his first article of clothing grew into a raging blaze as each inch of leather slipped free of his belt loops. He’d reared back and struck hard; putting his full weight behind it, and that first strike… the sharp sound of the belt striking William’s flesh had barreled into him like a freight train. He’d stood there with the belt dangling from his fist as a wave of euphoria washed over him… stronger and better than any drug. He’d watched the welt rise on William’s pale skin and it had just felt so… right. He’d pulled back and struck again, shuddering as the sound of William crying out hit him like a shot of heroin. He’d struck several more times, William’s cries of pain getting louder and louder until William had pushed himself off the couch and started to move away. 

James had reacted without thinking. He’d struck William hard with the fist wrapped around the buckle of his belt and William had gone down like a ton of bricks. James had panicked then. He’d looked down at the boy lying on the floor, his buttocks and thighs criss-crossed with angry red welts and a trickle of blood dripping down his cheek. Anne might believe that he’d gotten the facial injuries at school, but if William told her about the whipping… He’d just gotten her back and wasn’t about to lose her again… but he also didn’t want to give up these reawakened feelings. As he’d looked over his marks, that feeling of euphoria and… rightness… came flooding back, overriding the panic. He had to figure out a way to keep both his wife and his high.

The boy was surprisingly gullible… James would never hurt Anne… but as long as the boy believed he would, then James could get his daily fix… and keep his wife. It was the best of both worlds. 

The school-free days of the Christmas holiday were a breaking in period for James and William. As soon as Anne had left for work, James would order William to the punishment room. William was becoming accustomed to having his father control him and James was getting one hell of a workout. After the second day, his right arm felt like it was just going to fall off by the time he finally dropped the belt and went upstairs to sleep until he had to let the boy down. He switched to his left arm on the third day, and it too felt like it was going to fall off by the time he left the boy and went upstairs. The fourth day, he’d taken it easy on William, just locking him into the cuffs and leaving him stand as he wandered in and out of the room over the course of the day, enforcing his control over the boy. Of course, he’d get in one or two strikes before he went back upstairs to rub more Ben-Gay on his arms and take a nap.

The remaining days of Christmas break were more of the same. William would be locked into the cuffs first thing in the morning and spend all day there, alternately being beaten or left alone. James would let him down about an hour before Anne was due home, admonishing him each time to not let the cat out of the bag before he ordered him into the shower… cold, of course. Anne would arrive home and they’d have a normal family dinner, talking and laughing, and then James would leave for work. William was animated and seemed his normal, relatively happy self when Anne was home, but he’d become still and mostly silent as soon as she left. The weekends, Christmas Day, and New Year’s Day were some of the longest days of James’ life. Anne was home all day. It had surprised James how twitchy and cross he became when forced to do without his daily fix, especially so soon. He was hooked but good. 

When classes had started up again after Christmas break, James had started picking William up from school instead of letting him walk home in order to have more time with him. Having the sessions cut from all day to just over two hours a day took a toll. James was scratchy and cross at work, but he managed to put up a happy facade with Anne. James would try to squeeze in as much time as he could; only releasing William when the intercom system he’d installed alerted him to Anne’s car pulling into the garage. He’d let the boy down, hissing another warning into his ear, then he’d distract Anne while William dragged himself upstairs to the bathroom to clean up. 

He’d almost been caught out one day when Anne had unexpectedly come home early and James had been too in the zone to register the alert from the intercom. The look of abject terror on the boy’s face when Anne had called down on the intercom system had boosted James’ euphoria almost into the stratosphere. He’d left the boy cuffed to the post, telling him that if Anne found out anything… if he made a peep and she became even the tiniest bit suspicious… she’d be next. He’d gone upstairs whistling and had told Anne that since it was Friday, William was spending the night at a friend’s house. James had gone to work that night floating on a cloud.

While James had been floating on his high, William had been standing there, terrified that even the sound of his breathing would alert his mother to the fact that he was cuffed to a post in the basement, naked and beaten. When James had come home early Saturday morning, he’d popped into the room and threatened William again before heading to bed, making love to Anne for hours while William continued to stand in the basement, terrified and shaking from exhaustion. 

James had finally come downstairs, leaving Anne sated and asleep in their bed, and had whipped William for almost an hour, relishing the terrified glances the boy kept throwing at the ceiling after every particularly loud crack or cry of pain that he was unable to keep muffled. Of course, what the boy didn’t know wouldn’t hurt James. William didn’t know that Anne knew nothing about the existence of that room, or that the previous owner of the house had soundproofed it. After that, William spent almost every Friday night ‘at a friend’s house.’ 

Sundays were proving to be a problem, even with the Friday night ‘sleepovers’ and Saturday sessions while Anne slept blissfully unaware upstairs, the fix wore off, and by Monday afternoon, James was practically foaming at the mouth as he sat in the school parking lot waiting for William. The first half of Monday’s sessions usually took place just inside the front door with William bent over the back of the couch, his pants down around his ankles and his shirt rucked up over his head as James went to town on him with a riding crop or the belt. 

When Anne had taken a week’s vacation in early April, staying home for nine straight days and not even leaving the house to shop, James had taken to sneaking back from work in the middle of the night and making William meet him down in the basement for an abbreviated session… only an hour or so… and mostly using just a short whip in one hand and a spray bottle of rubbing alcohol in the other, because that caused the most pain in the shortest amount of time, but it was barely enough to get him through to the next night. It was on day six of this arrangement that James decided Anne had to go. He’d finally decided that he loved his high more than he did his wife.


	11. Trying to Sleep Over Here

Bruises  
Chapter 11 – Trying To Sleep Over Here

When Spike opened the bathroom door, steam rolled out and billowed along the ceiling of his room. Buffy looked up from her spot on the end of his bed and smirked at him. “You were in there a really long time. Are you all pruny?” She stood and moved quickly across the room, snagging one of his hands and lifting it to look at his fingertips. “Yep. Pruny.”

He smiled at her and chuckled, “Didn’t mean to stay in there so long, just been a while since I’ve been allowed to use hot water.” He ducked his head in embarrassment and raised a hand to the back of his neck. “I used it all. I’m sorry.”

She shrugged as she walked around him, surveying the injuries on his torso. “No big. I’ll shower in the morning. Besides, it looks like it did you some good. You look a little more relaxed, but you’re bleeding.”

Spike tried to twist and look behind him, but his ribs protested the movement and he froze. “Where?”

Buffy disappeared into the bathroom and came out with a small towel. She pressed it lightly to a bleeding line across his lower back just above the waistband of his sleep pants. “Here. The water must have softened the scab or something.”

Spike winced and muttered, “One of the strikes from the whip durin’ this morning’s session. My bum’s probably bleedin’ as well.”

Buffy reached down and patted lightly at the cloth covering his backside then inspected it for blood… and didn’t take an extra minute to admire the way the sleep pants clung to him… uh-uh… not at all. “Don’t see any blood, so maybe this was the worst one. You want me to bandage it or something? Do you want me to go get your pills?”

Spike shook his head, blushing furiously from the light touches on his bum as he stepped forward and reached back to keep the towel pressed in place. “No, I’ll be fine. Learned early on that bandages just made everythin’ else hurt worse when Da yanked ‘em off me, and the pain’s not that bad, luv. ‘Sides, I’m used to it and I’d rather not take the pills, if that’s all right.” 

Buffy nodded slightly as a frown creased her brow. “You sure? You shouldn’t have to be in pain if you’ve got pills to make it stop.”

Spike nodded. “I’m sure, pet. Didn’t much care for all the side effects that bloke rattled off at hospital… they sounded worse than what I’m already dealin’ with, and I’d rather have my wits about me.” He stepped toward the bed then stopped and turned back to Buffy. “Where’s my clothes?”

She nodded toward the bag on the floor in front of the closet that had a shirt and a pair of jeans stacked on top. “I put your sleep pants in the dresser and your boots in the closet, but the rest of the clothes I put back in the bag. I kept out the best ones for you to wear tomorrow, but I figured you’d want to get rid of them after we got you some new stuff. You know, a fresh start and everything. We could even burn them in the fire pit in the back yard if you want.”

Spike looked at the bag, his eyes welling up as Buffy stepped forward and wrapped him in a gentle hug. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and whispered into her hair. “I’d like that, Buffy. Thank you for thinking of it.” He gave her a gentle squeeze and backed up, dropping down tiredly on the edge of the bed. “Thank you for tidying up… and sorry for making a mess.”

Buffy shrugged and smiled. “No big again. You’re a teenage boy, Spike. You’re supposed to be messy… it’s like a law or something. You should see Xander’s room. I’m pretty sure he has carpet, but I couldn’t tell you what color it is ‘cause I’ve never seen it.”

Spike chuckled and scooted toward the head of the bed, noticing that Buffy had already turned down the covers. He pulled the towel away from his back then pressed a clean spot to it and pulled it away again. “I’ve stopped bleeding… uh… where should I put this? I’ve ruined it… I’ll pay for a new one.”

Buffy stepped forward and took the towel, pitching in overhand to land neatly in a black wicker hamper in the corner. “Don’t worry about it, Spike. Mom’ll just turn it into a cleaning rag or something and you don’t have to offer to pay for things all the time, unless you go all Hulk and destroy the house or something… then Mom might ask for some coin.”

Spike smiled up at her and reached for her hand. “Thank you, Buffy… for everything. I can’t imagine what all this must be like for you, but I want you to know that… you saved me… you didn’t have to do anything and I was a right git to you at hospital… and I’m sorry for that, but if you hadn’t barged into Mum’s room and stayed even after I treated you so badly… right now I’d be…”

Buffy stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, murmuring into his damp hair. “I know, Spike.”

He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and pressed his face into her stomach. “I don’t think I would’ve survived that.”

Buffy squeezed him tighter. “I’m sure you would’ve found a way, Spike. Like I said, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, but I’m glad you didn’t have to go through that.” She pulled back and leaned over to pat the pillow. “You should get some sleep. Mom wants us up and ready to go by nine.”

Spike eyed the bed warily then lay down stiffly on his back, but he didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. First he laid them on his chest, then dropped them to the bed at his sides before he finally moved them above his head and settled them near the headboard. Buffy reached down and tugged the blankets up to his chest. “Are you ok?”

He startled and looked up at her, first shame then anger washing over his features. “I’ve slept in this position for so long… God, Buffy… I **want** to move… roll over or something…. move my hands…”

Buffy nodded and stepped to the door. “Hang on a sec.” She turned off the bedroom light then turned on the light in the bathroom and pulled the door most of the way shut. She crawled up the bed and slipped under the covers then snuggled up next to Spike, laying her head gently on his chest. “Okay, we’ll start slow. You can stay on your back, but you have to bring down one arm to wrap around me. You can bring down the other one when you feel comfortable and then we’ll work on rolling to your side, okay?” Spike nodded and tentatively lowered his left arm, laying it lightly over Buffy. He startled slightly when her fingers twined with his, effectively locking the arm in place. She laid her other hand on his chest and started drawing light, random patterns on his multicolored skin with her fingertips. “How are you doing? This all right?”

Spike took a deep breath and nodded. “Doin’ fine, kitten. How do you always know just what to do?”

Buffy shrugged. “I just think about how I’d feel if it were me and then think about what would make things easier.” 

Spike lifted his head and pressed a gentle kiss to her hair. “You’re amazing. Ta, pet.”

She snuggled a little closer and wrapped her arm over him. “You’re welcome; now try to go to sleep.” She felt him tense slightly and squeezed his fingers. “Don’t worry; I’ll stay here as long as you need me to. Night, Spike.”

He squeezed her slightly and muttered, “Night, Buffy,” then forced himself to relax. Listening to Buffy’s breathing slow down and even out helped greatly and eventually his eyes drifted shut and he dropped off the edge into oblivion.

XX  
XXXX  
XX

The low creak of a hinge startled him awake and he looked around frantically, starting to panic because he didn’t recognize the room he was in. He didn’t try moving anything but his head because he was so used to being restrained that the thought didn’t even cross his sleep fuzzed mind. A pale form moved toward him and his eyes widened as everything suddenly came crashing back. He registered the warm body snuggled up to his left side and the soft hair splayed across his skin... Buffy. And the pale form that was currently moving toward him was her Mum. He was snuggled up in bed… IN BED… with Joyce’s daughter draped across his chest… his **naked** chest.

He sputtered as he started to sit up, trying to ease Buffy off his chest without waking her. “I’m sorry, Joyce… we just fell asleep… nothing happened… I swear… oh God… don’t tell Mr. Giles… please… I’ll go… I’ll…”

Joyce laid her hand on his shoulder and gently pressed him back against the mattress. “Spike, calm down.” She held her hand against his shoulder until he’d relaxed somewhat, then reached up and brushed his hair back from his face. “I didn’t mean to wake you; I was just coming to check on you and I already knew that Buffy was in here. She asked me if she could stay with you tonight… help you get settled. Besides, this room can be a little scary to wake up in if you’re not used to it.”

Buffy stirred and looked blearily up at her mother. “Mom? What time is it?”

“Just after four, sweetie. Go back to sleep.”

Buffy mumbled, “Okay,” and turned over, snuggling down into the pillows and pulling the blanket up to her chin.

Spike watched her roll away from him then sat up and scooted back to lean against the headboard. He looked up at Joyce, still not entirely convinced that she was okay with her daughter being in the bed of a half-naked teenage boy. “I swear nothing happened, Joyce.”

Joyce sat down on the edge of the bed. “I know that, Spike.” She reached out and smoothed the blanket over Buffy’s foot. “She came down to talk to me while you were in the shower. She told me that you’ve kissed and that she really likes you.”

Spike’s eyes went wide and he scooted closer to the head of the bed. “I like her as well, and I understand if you’re upset ‘bout the snoggin’, but I would never take liberties with your daughter, Joyce. I respect her too much… and my Mum would have my arse if I did.”

Joyce chuckled, “I’m not upset about it, Spike. Rupert and I are both fine with you two being together if that’s what you both want, and we know you’ve been raised to be a gentleman… but you’re both young… and full of hormones… and we’d understand if you got carried away. I just want to be sure that if something does happen that you’ll use precautions. I’m a little too young to be a grandmother.”

Spike nodded vigorously. “Oh yes, ma’am. I’d be very… uh… careful… uh… not that I’m thinkin’ of… um… doin’ anythin’… but… uh…”

Buffy mumbled, “Mom, stop freaking Spike out. Spike, I’m on the pill. Now can everybody just be quiet? I’m trying to sleep over here.”

Joyce laughed and patted Spike’s leg as she stood up. “That’s my Buffy… right to the point. Good night, you two.”

Buffy murmured, “Night,” and Spike sat there with his mouth hanging open. 

The sound of the door shutting quietly snapped him out of his daze and he whispered in shock, “Did your Mum just basically tell me that it’s all right if we shag?”

Buffy giggled, “Yeah… that’s pretty much the gist.” She sat up and turned to face Spike. “My parents are pretty progressive about stuff. Mom took me to get birth control pills at fifteen when I started dating Riley… we never did much and we **never** got far enough that the pills were needed, thank God… Riley’s a tool… but I would’ve been protected if we had. And my parents have given me ‘the talk’ several times and there were books… and a video… and a trip to the gynecologist… yeah… they wanted me to be informed… so I probably know more about sex than 95% of the kids we go to school with… if you added all their knowledge together.”

Spike looked wide eyed at the tiny girl sitting buried in a jumbled swirl of blanket and said very quietly, “Oh. Progressive.”

Buffy snapped her fingers in front of Spike’s face with another giggle. “I’m not a slut or anything if that’s what you’re thinking. Just because I know about sex doesn’t mean I’ve done it.”

Spike’s mouth fell open then snapped shut with an audible click. “No! I would never think that! I’m sure that you’ve never… I mean… I’m not sure, because how would I know… but…”

Buffy giggled and climbed out of the pile of blankets. “You’re so cute when you’re all stuttery and blushing. Have you ever?”

There went his mouth… falling open again. “You do get right to the point, don’t you?”

Buffy nodded then quirked her eyebrow. “So?”

Spike blushed a deep crimson. “No… I’ve never.”

Buffy scooted close then straddled his lap, settling down carefully. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Spike. It just means that you haven’t found someone you care about enough to share that with, that’s all.” She leaned down and brushed a gentle kiss over his lips then sat back. “Are you sleepy anymore?”

He shook his head with a chuckle. “No… it’s a fair bet to say that all my sleepiness has gone.” He tilted his head as he smirked at the girl on his lap. “You’re a study in contrasts, luv. On the one hand, you said you were terrified to even speak to me, and on the other, here we sit talkin’ ‘bout shaggin’ as if we’re discussin’ the weather.”

Buffy laughed and leaned down for a quick kiss. “Just because I know the mechanics doesn’t mean I don’t still act like a nervous teenager when I’m around a cute boy I like. I also seem to remember somebody telling me that they didn’t think they had a shot with me, and yet… here you are.”

Spike beamed a smile at her. “Yes, here I am. Pinch me.”

“What?”

“Pinch me. I want to make sure I’m not dreamin’. That I really was given permission to shag the most beautiful girl in the world.”

Buffy laughed and smacked him lightly on the chest. “You’re such a goofball. And we’re not going to ‘shag,’ Spike. Not yet. We’ve only known each other for less than a day… I mean actually talking and getting to know each other knowing, not just watching each other at school knowing. I do like you, Spike, and I like the way your kisses make me feel, but I’m not ready for the whole enchilada just yet, okay?”

Spike nodded emphatically. “That’s perfectly all right, Buffy. I’m utterly gob smacked that a girl as beautiful and carin’ and just bloody amazin’ as you are would have anythin’ at all to do with an awkward git like me, so I’m certainly not gonna do anythin’ to foul this up… at least… not intentionally. If I ever do somethin’ that upsets you, I hope you’ll tell me.”

Buffy trailed her fingers lightly down his chest. “Okay, one thing you do that upsets me. You talk down about yourself… how you look… what kind of person you are.” She looked into his eyes. “How do you think you look? Be honest.”

Spike turned his head and focused on the nightstand as he whispered, “I’m too skinny… too small… too short… too pale… not tall and huge and ripped and tan like most of the blokes the birds fancy.”

Buffy reached out and turned his head back to her. “You’re gorgeous, Spike. Completely gorgeous. Stand up.” She climbed off him and pulled him to his feet next to the bed then walked around him, pointing to or lightly caressing each body part she named off. “Okay. First… eyes. You have the most beautiful blue eyes and when you look at me a certain way, it seems like you can see right through to my soul. Second… cheekbones. Oh my God, there are models that would kill to have your cheekbones, and your lips… so full, and soft, and completely kissable. Third… you’re not skinny and small. You’re nicely compact, lithe, and well-muscled. I mean, look at your abs; you could scrub clothes on those things. And your arms are lean and muscular… strong without being all bulgy and bulky. And we won’t know what color your skin actually is until all the bruises fade, but I’m sure it’ll be gorgeous too, all smooth and creamy. You’re a hottie, Spike. A completely drool-worthy hottie. And I’ve already told you how smart and sweet I think you are, so you’re not a git… okay? You might be a little shy, but that just makes you even more irresistible.” 

She stepped around in front of him and wrapped her arms over his shoulders then leaned up and kissed him gently. “And I’m short, but you’re just the right height for me… see?” She leaned up and kissed him again. “I don’t have to hurt my neck to look up at you and we fit together just right.” She laid her head on his shoulder. “So… you’re **my** totally smart, shy, irresistible hottie now… if that’s what you want.”

Spike wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him, burying his face in her hair. His voice cracked slightly when he said quietly, “Yes… that’s what I want. And will you be my beautiful, smart, and amazin’ girl?”

She sighed happily and placed a gentle kiss to his neck. “Yes, Spike, I will.”


	12. Uncomfortable

Bruises  
Chapter 12 – Uncomfortable

Buffy gently maneuvered Spike back into bed then crawled in next to him. “Are you going to be able to go back to sleep?”

He wrapped his arms over her and tucked her head under his chin. “Probably not, but if you want to sleep, go ahead. I’m content to just lie here and hold you.”

Buffy lifted her head and placed a gentle kiss to his chest. “Hey, guess what?”

“What, kitten?”

“Your arms are both down. You want to try lying on your side?”

He shook his head. “Uh…”

She snuggled closer. “It’s all right… when you’re ready.”

He murmured against her hair, “It’s not that… it’s uh… if I roll over then… um… parts… of my body are going to come into contact with… um… parts… of yours and that might lead to… um… enchiladas. Stayin’ this way is safer, pet.”

Buffy lifted up on her elbow and gazed down into his eyes. “You’re so sweet… such a gentleman. You know, most guys in your position would be trying to take advantage… you know… getting handsy and all touchy-feely… but you haven’t touched me anywhere even remotely inappropriate.”

Spike’s brow furrowed. “Do you want me to… erm… touch you inappropriately?”

She lowered her head and caught Spike’s lips in a deep, tongue tangling kiss. When she came up for air, she smiled down at him. “Not right now… but soon… yeah. Soon I want all kinds of inappropriate touching.” She scooted back down and snuggled up against him again, laying her arm over his middle. “Hey, guess what else?”

He shifted slightly then chuckled, “What, kitten?”

“We’re doing things kind of backwards. Usually a couple wouldn’t end up in bed together until they’d been dating for a while. We’re already in bed and haven’t been on any dates.”

Spike tightened his hold on her. “Would you like to go on a date with me, Buffy?”

Buffy giggled. “Yes, I would. How about we count our mall crawl tomorrow as a date? Then we’ll be on track relationship-wise.”

Spike’s deep chuckle sent a warm, tingly feeling all through Buffy as he said, “Wouldn’t be right, luv. I asked you out so I’m supposed to pay for everything.”

Buffy giggled and lifted her head to nibble on his neck. “You’re so old-fashioned… it’s sweet. How about I ask you out first then?” He groaned low in his throat as her mouth found its way to his ear and nipped lightly. “I’ll take that as a yes. So tomorrow will be our first date.” She laid her head down and snuggled in with a sigh. “Night again, Spike.”

Spike reached down and discreetly adjusted himself then wrapped his arms tightly around Buffy. “Night, kitten. Again.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Buffy walked into Spike’s bedroom toweling her hair and stopped just inside the door to admire the view. Spike was splayed out on his belly in the middle of the bed, arms and legs stretched out and the blankets kicked down to the end as he snored lightly. She watched the play of muscles across his back when he moved his arm and her eyes trailed slowly down and once again admired the way the sleep pants clung to his perfect ass. She shivered as she stepped closer and muttered under her breath, “Oh yeah… all kinds of naughty touching is going to be happening soon. Real soon.”

“Is that him?”

Buffy spun around and smiled at the tall, thin girl standing just inside the bedroom door. “Yeah, Dawnie, that’s him. His name’s Spike.”

Dawn leaned over and peered around Buffy. “He’s all bruised and stuff. What happened to him? Mom wouldn’t tell me.”

Buffy looked over her shoulder at Spike then turned and walked over to Dawn, laying her hands lightly on her shoulders. “His Dad did that to him, that’s why he’s here.”

Dawn looked around Buffy again, tears starting to form in her eyes. “Poor Spike.”

Buffy wrapped her in a hug just as Joyce called up the stairs, “Dawn! The bus will be here in two minutes! Are you ready?”

Dawn reached up and swiped at her eyes then leaned out into the hall and yelled down the stairs. “Be there in a minute, Mom!” She looked over at Spike again then looked up at Buffy with a serious expression. “Take care of him, Buffy.”

Buffy smiled down at her and reached up to tuck her long, brown hair behind her ear. “I will, Dawnie. Have a good day at school.”

Dawn glanced at Spike again then turned and rushed down the stairs. Buffy stepped out into the hall and watched her go, then walked back into Spike’s room. She sat down on the edge of the bed and lightly ran her fingers down Spike’s spine. “Spike? It’s time to wake up.”

He jerked then tensed up, his eyes wide and rolling as he tried to figure out where he was. His eyes caught on the jeans-clad leg next to him and he visibly relaxed then lifted his hand and dragged it over his face. “Buffy?”

She leaned down and feathered gentle kisses across his back, avoiding the rawest looking scrapes and scratches. “Yep. You look better this morning… still pretty multicolored, but I can see a few spots of regular skin.” She placed a kiss to one of the clear spots that was criss-crossed with faint silvery scars, then licked it gently before she sat up and patted him on the arm. “Time to get up, sleepyhead. We’ve got to be downstairs in twenty.”

Spike smiled. “Twenty minutes, eh? Think that’ll be enough time for me to make myself beautiful? You, however, don’t need any making up. You’re beautiful already.”

Buffy leaned down and licked gently at his ear. “Such a sweet talker… and you’re already beautiful too, but you’d better get a move on or Mom will come drag you out of bed. Literally drag you… by your feet. She hates to be late.” Buffy stood up next to the bed and started toweling her hair again as Spike just laid there looking up at her. “Spike? You getting up?”

He closed his eyes and his face turned crimson. “Not gettin’… am. Uh… could you… uh… maybe give me a minute?”

Buffy’s brow furrowed. “Give you a minute for what?”

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter. “Um… when they wake up… um… blokes have… uh… and you were kissin’… and uh… touchin’… and...”

Buffy’s eyes went wide with understanding. “Oh! You’re hard. Morning wood and everything, I get it now. I’ll go fix my hair and let you… uh… do whatever. Just let me know when you’re ready, I’ll be next door.” She bent down and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek then bounced out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

Spike rolled over with a groan and looked down at the huge tent in his sleep pants then climbed out of bed and started for the bathroom. He hurriedly stripped out of his pants and stepped into the tub, turning the cold tap on full blast. He stood shivering under the freezing spray for a good three minutes before Spike Junior finally took the hint and deflated. Spike mumbled as he toweled his hair, “First time I’ve ever **willingly** taken a cold shower.” He quickly finished his morning ablutions and stepped back into his bedroom, scowling at the ratty, too big clothes stacked on the bag. “Last day I’ll ever wear any of this shit.” He tugged the clothes on and fished a pair of socks out of the bag then pulled the nicer pair of boots out of the closet. He combed through his unruly curls the best he could with his fingers then stepped up to the bed and quickly straightened the covers.

He stepped out into the hall and knocked gently on the door next to his then smiled when he heard Buffy’s voice. “Come in, Spike.”

He slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside. Buffy’s room was the complete opposite of Faith’s. There was pink… lots of pink… and lace… and ruffles… and stuffed animals covering almost every available surface with a small pink pig propped up all by itself against the pillows on her king size bed. Buffy was bending over in front of her packed to the rafters closet wearing a tight pair of Capri jeans and a form fitting red tank top that left most of her midriff bare. She was digging around on the floor trying to locate the mate to the sandal dangling from one finger and Spike suddenly wished he was back in that cold shower. He tugged the hem of his shirt lower, immensely glad that it was big enough to cover the sudden bulge in his trousers.

Buffy crowed in delight and straightened up clutching the other sandal, then walked over to her bed and plopped down. “I can’t wait to get to the mall. There’s this one store that has lots of those punk t-shirts you like… unless you want to get something else?”

Spike’s brain was still recycling the picture of her bending over in front of the closet and he shook his head, trying to clear it. “Uh… that would be good, I guess. I haven’t really thought much about it.”

Buffy looked up at him as she slipped her foot into a sandal. “What kind of look do you want to go for? You looked really tasty in your jeans and t-shirts. They fit your frame and build and I like the black, but I’d like to get you some button down shirts to wear… red… maybe blue. A blue one would really bring out your eyes. Spike? What’s wrong?”

He dipped his head and mumbled, “Oh… uh… it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

She slipped her other sandal on then got off the bed and stepped in front of him. “No, you’re not. What’s wrong? You look really embarrassed about something. Did I do something? You can tell me.”

Spike looked at her. “No… it’s not you… er… it is you… I’m just… you look ravishing… and I was just… uh… having a reaction to you… uh… bending over.”

Buffy smiled and stepped closer then wrapped her arms around him and nibbled on his neck. “So, I make you hot? You like looking at me?”

Spike groaned as his hands slid up her arms and tangled in her hair, “God yes, Buffy.” He dipped his head and attacked her neck, nibbling and sucking lightly as he murmured, “So beautiful… my kitten.”

Buffy pushed close as he nipped up her neck to her ear then gasped as she felt the hard bulge in his jeans pressing against her stomach. “Wow, you recover pretty fast.”

Spike’s nibbling stuttered to a halt and he backed up. “Recover?”

Buffy nodded toward his crotch. “Yeah, you’re hard again already. I thought it took longer than that after orgasm for men to get hard again.”

If Spike’s face got any redder, his head was going to explode. He backed up and bumped into the wall. “I didn’t… uh… I haven’t… um… done that.”

Buffy’s brow furrowed. “But… I thought… earlier when you woke up… didn’t you? What **did** you do?”

Spike focused on the pig on Buffy’s bed as his cheeks continued to heat. “Took a cold shower. I didn’t think it would be proper to… uh… pleasure myself… especially in your home.”

Buffy’s eyes went wide. “Not proper? Spike, it’s perfectly natural to masturbate. I do it all the time… well… not **all** the time… but I do it. There’s nothing wrong with it, nothing at all.”

Spike groaned low in his throat at the thought of Buffy splayed out on her ruffled pink blanket with her legs spread and her fingers… “God, Buffy, you’re really not makin’ this easier for me.”

Buffy stepped close, pinning him against the wall, and laid her head on his chest, listening to his heart as it hammered away under her ear. “I’m sorry, Spike. You mean you’ve never?”

He nodded as the heat burning from his cheeks started to make his eyes water. “Yes… I have… just… uh… not for a while. Whenever Da left me alone I was restrained, and besides, being beaten into hamburger on a daily basis isn’t usually conducive to those types of feelings. I haven’t actually felt anythin’ like this for a long time.”

Buffy whispered against his chest, “How long?”

Spike whispered back, “Um… pretty much since Da started in on me… but when you were standin’ over me yesterday in that bitty scrap of a skirt… um…”

Buffy slipped her hand under Spike’s shirt and trailed her fingers lightly over his stomach. “I love it that I make you feel like this, and believe me, you make me all kinds of hot, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable all day, Spike.”

Spike leaned his head on the wall with a low moan as her fingers slipped inside the waistband of his jeans. “I’ll be fine, luv. It’ll go away eventually… I hope.”

Buffy leaned up and nibbled on his Adam’s apple as her hand slipped all the way into his jeans and wrapped around him. “I’ll help.”

Spike yelped and his hands flew to her shoulders, trying to push her back. “Buffy! Your Mum’s home… and… and… what about the enchilada? And… and…”

Buffy pulled her hand out of his pants and stepped through her door into the hallway. “Mom?”

Joyce’s voice drifted up the stairs. “Yes, Buffy? Are you about ready to go? It’s almost nine.”

Buffy smirked over her shoulder at Spike then yelled down the stairs. “I can’t find my other sandal. You go ahead and we’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

They heard the front door open then Joyce called back up the stairs. “All right, just don’t take too long.” 

Buffy was standing in front of Spike unbuttoning his jeans before the front door was even all the way closed. “Okay, Mom knows how cluttered my closet is, so we have a little time.”

Spike’s eyes were as wide as saucers as she lowered his zipper and pulled him free. He squeaked as her hand wrapped around him again. “Enchilada?”

She giggled as she started slowly stroking. “This isn’t the enchilada, Spike. This is more like… um… okay, the kisses and touching are the chips and salsa on the table… and this is… um… the appetizer platter with the little tacos and empanadas!” She slid his jeans down until they pooled around the tops of his boots, grimacing slightly at all the bruises and welts up and down his legs as she dropped to her knees.

Spike’s hands banged against the wall at his sides as she licked slowly up his length then took him into her mouth. “Oh God! Buffy! Bloody hell!”

Buffy held his shirt up with one hand as she looked up at him and started slowly bobbing her head up and down his shaft, wrapping her other hand around the length that wouldn’t fit in her mouth. His hands drifted to her head, his fingers sliding into her hair as he looked down at her. His face was contorted in pleasure as he panted and tried not to thrust when she sucked in her cheeks and twirled her tongue. “God, Buffy… not gonna last much… Oh! Buffy!” He released deep in her mouth in several long spurts, his entire body tense as he made a noise that sounded sort of like a howl. When he was completely spent he collapsed against the wall, breathing hard and twitching slightly every few seconds. 

Buffy sat back on her feet and smiled up at him then stood and stepped close. “You all right?”

He looked at her with a dazed grin. “Buffy… that was… bloody hell.” He noticed something shiny and wet dripping out of the corner of her mouth and he straightened up with a gasp. “Oh bugger, pet. I’m sorry… I never meant for you to…” He reached up and wiped her mouth with his sleeve. “I feel like a bloody inconsiderate sod… I should’ve warned you.”

She reached up and grasped his wrist gently through the shirt. “It’s okay, Spike. I’m not upset. I wanted to, okay?”

He stammered, “You… wanted to? I didn’t think women… uh… liked that.”

Buffy shrugged. “From what I’ve read about it, some do and some don’t. I suppose it depends on how the girl feels about the guy.” She leaned close and nibbled on his chin. “You taste good, Spike.”

Spike looked surprised. “I do? You aren’t going to be sick all over my shirt or anythin’ are you?”

She giggled and shook her head. “I should probably go brush my teeth, but no, I’m not gonna be sick.” She bent down and started tugging Spike’s pants back up. “We should probably go. Mom’s gonna have a conniption if we’re too late.”

Spike blushed… again. “But… you haven’t… uh… I didn’t… um… isn’t it customary for me to… uh… reciprocate?”

Buffy let go of his jeans and straightened up with a smile. “You’re so sweet, and you’ll get to, if you want, but we don’t have time right now and I don’t want your first time… reciprocating… to be rushed or anything. I want you to take your time and enjoy it as much as I’m going to.” 

Spike gulped and reached down to snag the waistband of his jeans, suddenly embarrassed to be standing there with his tackle hanging out. “All right… Uh… I’ll take care of this if you want to go… um… freshen up. And Buffy?” She smiled at him and raised her eyebrow. “Thanks. That was… I’ve never felt anythin’ that good… and… just thanks.”

She leaned up and whispered in his ear as she reached down and squeezed him. “You’re very welcome, Spike, and I’m glad you liked it.” She gave his ear a tiny lick then breathed, “And now you won’t be uncomfortable all day.” 

Spike watched her walk across the hall into the bathroom then he thumped back against the wall and looked down at his reawakening cock. “Right. Bloody hell.”


	13. William's Dead

Bruises  
Chapter 13 – William’s Dead

Buffy cast a sideways glance at Spike as she maneuvered her small car through the heavy morning traffic. “Spike? You look like you want to ask me something but you’re afraid that I’m going to be upset about it.”

Spike nodded. “I do want to ask you something, but I don’t think it’s… uh… appropriate?”

Buffy shrugged. “Well, we won’t know until you ask, now will we?”

Spike took a deep breath and leaned away from her as much as he could in the tiny car like he was afraid that what he was about to say would earn him a punch in the nose. “All right. Um… first I wanted to thank you again for what you did for me... it was very good… and… um…”

Buffy finished his question for him. “And you want to know just how many cocks I’ve sucked?”

It was a good thing that Buffy was the one driving or they would’ve been plowing into oncoming traffic. Spike’s eyes went wide and he started stammering, “Oh God… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest… I mean you’re…”

Buffy laughed, “Calm down, Spike, it’s a valid question. Two.”

Spike started to speak then had to clear his throat and try again. “Is… uh… mine… included in that number?”

Buffy’s eyes twinkled as she glanced over at him with a grin, “Yes,” then she watched Spike out of the corner of her eye as he struggled with himself. He clearly wanted to know who else she’d been with but didn’t want to take the chance of offending her by asking. She decided to let him off the hook. “Riley.” He closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the seat and Buffy reached over and gently grasped his hand. “Yes, I know he’s this huge, hulking guy with a bunch of bulgy muscles and whatever, and you think that you’re too small, but guess what?”

Spike cracked an eye and turned his head slightly. “What?”

Buffy winked and squeezed his hand. “You’re bigger.”

Spike’s eyes popped open in surprise and he lifted his head off the seat. “You’re not just sayin’ that?”

Buffy giggled, “No. I’ll swear it on a stack of Bibles if you want. You’re huge. I know this probably isn’t something you want to know, but I could fit all of him in my mouth and I could only fit about half of you.”

Spike’s grin was about to split his face right in two as Buffy parked the car and raised the roof into place. He was still grinning as he climbed out and waited for her to walk around the car to join him. He reached for her hand and twined their fingers together as they walked slowly into the hospital. They stepped into the elevator and Spike pushed the button for the sixth floor then leaned back on the wall… and yep… he was still grinning. Buffy stepped in front of him and leaned up to nibble on his neck. “You’re so cute.”

Spike dipped his head and kissed her gently then leaned it back against the wall. “So… you and Captain Forehead…”

Buffy smirked. “Angel? No. Here, I’ll give you a quick rundown. I gave Riley exactly three blowjobs and he never did anything for me except paw at me like he had shoes on his hands or something. We broke up because I caught him with Graham, only this time Riley was giving a blowjob instead of receiving one.”

Spike’s jaw dropped. “Finn’s a poofter? But he’s the soddin’ quarterback! All macho and… I’ve seen him torment Andrew for being gay until he burst into tears!”

Buffy nodded. “I know, and I’ve only kept the secret because Graham’s basically a good guy and if it got out that he’s gay, it would completely screw up his life. His parents are super strict and completely homophobic and if they found out, he’d be out on his ass in a heartbeat. So you can’t tell anybody, okay?”

Spike shook his head. “I won’t. Miller’s never done anythin’ to me… Course he never stepped up to stop the rest of the tossers when they were poundin’ me into the pavement, but I won’t out him.”

Buffy leaned her head on Spike’s chest as they continued their ascent in what had to be the slowest elevator on the planet. “So, I broke up with Riley not too long before you moved here, actually. Then I went out with a few guys, mostly as friends to the movies and stuff, and Angel asked me out over the summer. We didn’t really start ‘going out’ until the week before school started. And all we’ve done sexually is some making out and we masturbated each other with our hands. That’s it.” She leaned up and nibbled on Spike’s neck. “You’re bigger than Angel, too. Not more than twice as big like with Riley, but bigger.”

Spike was grinning again.

XX  
XXXX  
XX

“William! I was beginning to wonder if you’d gotten lost.” Anne set her teacup on the rolling table next to the bed and waved him over, pulling him into a fierce hug. “You look much better today. Your eye has healed considerably overnight, how are the rest of your injuries?”

Spike sat down on the edge of Anne’s bed with a smile. “I’m good, Mum. I finally got some proper sleep last night and if I keep that up, I should be healed up in a week or so. You look beautiful today, as always. How was your night? Did you enjoy the tea?”

Anne smiled and reached up to cup Spike’s cheek. “Sweet boy.” She lowered her hand to his and grasped it tightly. “I slept better last night than I have for a long while. I’ve been beside myself with worry about you, William, but finally knowing what’s been happening and that it’s over and you’re safe brought me great relief. And Joyce’s tea is wonderful.” She tossed a wink at Joyce. “Almost as good as mine.”

Anne reached for Joyce’s hand as Joyce chuckled. “Anne and I have been having a lovely conversation while we waited for you two.”

Spike blushed furiously and turned a fearful look on Buffy as he remembered the reason for their tardiness. Now, normally Buffy wouldn’t lie to her mother, they had a very open and honest relationship, and Joyce wouldn’t have been upset about the reason they were late anyway… but Anne was a completely different story. Buffy could easily see Spike and Anne **both** dying of embarrassment if Anne found out the real reason they were late, so Buffy quickly came up with an alternate explanation. “Yeah, sorry about that, it was my fault. My sandal just really didn’t want to be found. I even had Spike digging around in my closet trying to help.” She bumped Spike’s shoulder with her own. “He was muttering the whole time about why girls ‘bloody’ need so many ‘sodding’ shoes. It was way cute.”

Spike mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ to Buffy then turned and shot Anne a guilty glance, even though he didn’t feel the least bit guilty for not giving the frail woman a heart attack on top of everything else. “I know, Mum. Language.”

Anne patted his knee lovingly. “It’s all right, William. I forget sometimes just how grown up you are.”

Spike smirked to himself as he thought, _*You have no idea, Mum… no idea.*_

“You’re becoming quite the young man and I can’t continue to treat you like a little boy, so a few harmless curse words won’t incur my motherly wrath any longer.”

Buffy sat down behind Spike and wrapped her arms around his middle. “They don’t really sound like curse words anyway, especially when he says them with that accent.” 

Anne laughed, “No, I suppose not, at least not here in the States.”

Joyce smiled at the pair of them cuddling on the bed. Spike had laid his arm over Buffy’s and had twined their fingers together and her head was lying on his back between his shoulder blades as she looked at her mother. Joyce winked at Buffy and that wink told her that Joyce knew **something** had happened to make them late… and that it hadn’t involved hunting down a wayward sandal. “I was just telling Anne what a delight I think Spike is. So polite and well mannered. Something you don’t see very often in young people today, even taking into account the accented cursing.”

Spike’s face had barely returned to its normal color when the women started talking in earnest all around him. His blush returned with a vengeance then got deeper and deeper as Anne spoke of when he was a baby and told some of the amusing antics he’d gotten up to when he’d learned to walk. Then Buffy got a chance to blush when Joyce countered with a few humorous and slightly mortifying tales of her childhood. When the talk turned to things entirely female related… childbirth and cramps and the like… Spike hastily excused himself and made his way down to the cafeteria, armed with some cash from Joyce’s purse and a list of requested snacks and drinks. 

He gathered the drinks and nibbles then poured himself a cup of weak tea and paid the tab. He figured he should probably give the ladies a few more minutes to finish discussing the more intimate details of womanhood before venturing back to the room, so he took a seat at a corner table that overlooked the street. He was staring blankly at the traffic creeping by when he was startled by a finger lightly tapping his shoulder. He jumped, almost spilling his tea, and turned to see a blonde woman wearing green scrubs standing behind him. “William?”

He bolted to his feet. “Is it Mum? Has something happened?”

The woman shook her head. “No, she’s fine. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you. I called your name a few times, but you must have been lost in thought and didn’t hear me.”

Spike sat down uneasily and took a few deep breaths, trying to counteract the burst of adrenaline flooding his system. “Uh… no. Guess I didn’t.” He shakily took a sip of his now cold tea and watched warily as the woman moved around the table and took the seat opposite him. He looked over her scrubs, searching for the laminated ID badge that all hospital employees wore, but couldn’t find one. “Um… I don’t mean to be rude, but… who are you?”

She held out her hand with a warm smile. “I’m Tara Maclay, one of the staff psychiatrists.”

Spike tentatively reached for her hand and gave it a cursory shake. “Nice to meet you, Miss Maclay. Is there something I can do for you?”

Tara leaned her elbows on the table and propped her chin on her hands. “I’d like to talk to you for a while, if that’s okay.”

Spike looked her over and leaned back in his chair. “Not to be rude again, but you don’t look much like a shrink.”

Tara laughed, “I don’t usually wear scrubs, but my first patient of the day had a bit of a tantrum and doused me with a cherry slushie.” At Spike’s eyebrow quirk, she elaborated. “I counsel children, William. My specialty is children who have been traumatized.”

Suspecting where she was headed with this, Spike sat forward and reached for the bag of snacks on the table. “I’m not a child and I don’t need counseling so I’ll just be going now. It was nice to meet you.” 

He started to stand and Tara asked quietly, “William, could you please stay? I’d like to talk to you. I know what you’ve been through.”

All the color drained from Spike’s face as he glanced around quickly at the other patrons of the cafeteria then hissed out an angry whisper, “I’d rather not discuss anythin’ in the middle of the soddin’ cafeteria, if you don’t mind.” He bolted to his feet and stalked away from the table and out of the room.

Tara caught up with him as he was waiting for the elevator. “William, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to go this way, but I really do need to talk with you.”

Spike glared at her over his shoulder as he stepped into the first available car. She followed him in and he stepped away from her, angrily pushing the button for the sixth floor. She reached in front of him and pushed the button for the fourth floor. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the doors to close then glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “So how do you know? Who told you? This was supposed to be kept soddin’ quiet, not shouted from the bloody rooftop.”

“Detective LeHane personally brought me your case file early this morning. I’ve been assigned to counsel you and prepare you for a trial if there is one, although that’s unlikely. Usually cases like this are pled out and never see the inside of a courtroom.” Spike suddenly slumped against the wall, his face crumpled in pain. Tara stepped slightly closer and kept her voice low and steady, “Are you all right?”

He looked up at her with anguished eyes. “Do I bloody well look all right? He’s gonna get off, isn’t he? Nothin’ more than a slap on the wrist.” Spike dropped the bag to the floor of the elevator and stripped off his shirt then stood and turned in a slow circle, the shirt dangling from his clenched fist. “He did this, all of it and more, and nothin’ is gonna happen to him, is it? Why should anybody care? I’m useless… worthless… and his son… so he can do what he bloody well pleases with me.” 

He dropped to a crouch and stuffed himself into the corner of the elevator, wrapping his arms around his shins and pressing his forehead against his knees. Tara crouched down next to him and assumed a similar position. “William…”

He muttered angrily against his legs, “Name’s Spike. Stop callin’ me William. Only person in the world gets to call me that is my Mum… and you’re not her.”

Tara whispered, “What did he call you?”

Spike snorted, “Can’t tell you what he called me most of the time, promised Mum I wouldn’t use that sort of language. The rest of the time he called me ‘boy.’ Don’t think I’ve ever heard him say my actual name… maybe once or twice when he was talkin’ to Mum, but never to me.”

“So why don’t you use William anymore?”

Spike looked up at her with a cold glare. “Cause William’s dead. He was beaten to death by his father.”


	14. Good Buffy

Bruises  
Chapter 14 – Good Buffy

The elevator doors opened and Spike jumped to his feet, quickly tugging his shirt over his head. He snatched up the bag of snacks and stepped out of the elevator, only realizing that he was on the wrong floor after the doors had closed behind him. He turned around and stabbed the button then startled slightly when Tara spoke from beside him, “Spike, would you come to my office for a few minutes? I’d like to talk to you about what just happened.”

Spike didn’t look at her as he muttered angrily, “Nothin’ happened. You saw what he did to me, and what he’ll continue to do to me when he gets home, although I imagine he’ll be a bit cross with me, havin’ him pinched and all, so it’ll be a lot worse ‘cause I’m gonna have to find a way to convince him to leave Mum alone. Now piss off and leave me be. I want to see Mum and Buffy and say goodbye while I’ve the chance, ‘cause I doubt I’ll ever see the outside of my house again once he gets hold of me.”

Tara said quietly, “He’s not going to be getting out, Spike, not until he’s a doddering old man, if at all.” Spike turned slightly toward her, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and Tara smiled. “When I said that the case wouldn’t see the inside of a courtroom, I meant that there’s so many charges against him that his lawyer… if he’s got a brain in his head at all… will advise him to take a deal. I’ve seen the pictures of you and that room and I’ve read your statement, and based on that, I can safely say that I will counsel the court against leniency of any kind.”

Spike blinked and whispered, “What if he asks for a trial? What then? Could he get off?”

Tara shook her head. “Your father is hopefully not stupid enough to demand a trial, because in this case… showing those pictures in open court…. in front of a jury… would be very bad for him. Very, very bad. And I know the prosecutor personally. He’s a pit bull, Spike, and believe me; he’s going to do everything in his power to see your father behind bars for the rest of his natural life.”

Spike’s face turned hopeful and he took a deep breath. “He’s really not coming back?”

“No, Spike, he’s not coming back. You’re safe.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Spike stepped into Anne’s room and walked slowly over to the bed. He dropped the bag of snacks in front of Buffy then leaned over the bed and handed Joyce a manila folder. “That’s a schedule of appointments and some other things from my psychiatrist, Miss Maclay.”

Joyce took the folder with a nod and started flipping through it. “She stopped in here and spoke to us earlier and I told her that you’d gone to the cafeteria. I didn’t expect her to keep you this long, though. She said that she just wanted to meet you and get an appointment schedule worked out.”

Buffy noticed his red-rimmed eyes and puffy face and stood up quickly. “Are you okay? What did she do?”

Spike took a deep breath as she wrapped her arms around him. “Just had my first session with her is all… things got a bit… emotional.”

Buffy squeezed lightly and smiled up at him. “Guess it’s time to hit the mall then. Turn that frown upside down.”

Joyce chuckled, “Just because you like shopping doesn’t mean that Spike does, sweetie.”

Buffy smirked at her. “Mom, shopping is a universal happy-maker, and I’m sure we’ll find something he likes.” She looked up at Spike. “You like stuff, right?”

Anne smiled warmly. “Books. William loves books.”

Buffy let Spike go and started fishing in the snack bag. “That’ll work. There’s like three bookstores in the mall and if he can’t find something he likes there, then there’s this old bookstore downtown.” She pulled out a bottle of juice and a blueberry muffin wrapped in cellophane then looked up at Spike. “Ready to go?”

Spike looked at Anne then reached out and gently took Buffy’s hand. “Could I maybe have a few minutes to speak with Mum?”

Buffy nodded. “Sure, Spike. I’ll wait for you out in the hall, okay?”

Joyce got to her feet and gathered her purse, the thermos, and Spike’s folder. “I’m going to the Gallery to finish unpacking that shipment. Buffy, you and Spike need to be home by seven for dinner, so make sure you get your shopping and visiting done before then, all right?”

Buffy stepped around the bed and pulled her mother into a one-armed hug. “I’ll have him home on time, Mom. Have fun with your dusty relics. Love you.”

Joyce returned the hug and placed a kiss to the top of Buffy’s head. “Love you too, sweetie.” She started for the door, then changed course and stepped up in front of Spike, pulling him into a hug. “Try to have a good time, Spike, and please try to drag Buffy out of the mall before it closes. See you at dinner.” 

Spike returned the hug and mumbled, “I’ll try. Thanks, Joyce.” She planted a kiss on his cheek then turned and headed out of the room. Buffy sent Spike a warm smile then followed her mother, pulling the door closed behind her.

Spike waited until the door had closed then sat down on the edge of Anne’s bed and gently took her hand. “Mum… I… I need to know something.”

Anne squeezed his fingers. “What is it, dear?”

He kept his gaze firmly locked on their joined hands as he said quietly, “I know that yesterday when I told you what Da was… you said that you didn’t...” He took a deep breath, “Did you know? Any of it? Did you have any inkling of what he was doin’ to me?”

Anne shook her head as tears started tracking slowly down her cheeks. “No, William! If I’d known…” She took a deep breath and ducked her head in shame. “I did know what he was capable of… from what he’d done to you when you were small… you didn’t remember any of it… you were so young when he left…”

Spike mumbled, “I remember, Mum. I remember the belt… and you and I in the loo while he… he was so angry… and then he was crying and pleading with you… and then he’d gone. I remember it all… now. I didn’t really when we first arrived here… just vague images… but when he started in on me again… it brought it all back.”

Anne lifted her hand and pressed it to Spike’s cheek. “I’m so sorry, William.” She withdrew her hand and leaned back against her pillow, closing her eyes. “I shouldn’t have brought us here… I thought because he was sober…” She choked back a sob, “You would have been safe had we stayed in London.” She looked up at him with pleading eyes. “He was so sincere and I was sure he’d changed. He wasn’t drinking any longer, he hadn’t had a drop in years, and I thought… thought that was his problem… the alcohol.”

“No, I’m the problem.” Spike glanced at his mother’s stricken face then looked guiltily down at the bed next to his leg. “Are you… are you cross with me, Mum?”

Anne’s eyes widened in confusion. “Whatever for?”

Spike mumbled, “I know you love him, Mum, and I don’t fault you for that… he is your husband, after all. It’s just… it’s my fault that he’s… that he has this… problem… if I wasn’t so worthless… could be a proper son…”

Anne sat up and reached up sharply, grasping Spike’s chin and lifting his face to meet her fierce gaze. “You are not worthless, William James Pratt! I’ll not hear such nonsense! None of what that bastard did to you was your fault! None of it! I’ll not have you blaming yourself because he’s a sick, twisted little man. And you ARE a proper son, as proper a son as any parent could wish to have. If your father wasn’t demented, he would have seen you as you are, a fine young man worthy of love and respect, not a ‘toy’ to be used for acting out his perverse, disgusting fantasies.” She released her hold on his chin and gently caressed his cheek. “And I did love him, William, but no longer. I love you. **You** are all that matters to me now.”

Spike leaned forward and wrapped his mother in a hug, his hot tears splashing against her neck. “I’m sorry, Mum”

Anne stroked his hair and murmured quietly as her own tears continued to streak down her face. “You have nothing to be sorry FOR, dear. I’m the only one out of the pair of us that should feel guilty about any of this. And I do, William, I do. I’m so sorry for not paying closer attention. I had noticed that something wasn’t quite right with you… the changes in your behavior… your demeanor… I should have spoken to you about it, but instead I attributed it to being in a foreign country and your difficulties at school and assumed you’d work through it. I’m so sorry for failing you, William. I love you so much and I’m so sorry.”

Spike clutched her tighter. “I love you, too, Mum. So much.”

They held each other for a while until they’d both calmed and their tears had stopped, then Spike sat back and scrubbed the sleeve of his shirt across his face. He took a deep breath and gave Anne a weak smile. “Here I am sobbin’ like a nancy-boy all over my Mum again. Startin’ to wonder if I’m seventeen or seven.”

Anne smiled and reached up to brush the hair out of his face. “You’re a strong young man, William, and your tears don’t diminish you at all. You’ve made me very proud, you know. It took great courage to endure all that you have this past year…” She nodded toward the door. “And it also takes great courage to allow someone to help you when you need it.”

Spike threw a smile over his shoulder at the door. “Buffy’s been a great help, Mum. She seems to know just what I need when I need it.”

Spike’s smile warmed Anne’s heart. “She’s very excited about this ‘mall crawl’ that she’s taking you on today…”

Spike chuckled, “She told you about that?” Anne nodded and Spike smirked. “She calls it ‘retail therapy.’ Not sure how buyin’ things constitutes ‘therapy,’ but I’m willin’ to give it a go, I suppose.”

Anne took his hand and squeezed gently. “You’ll come back to see me after your shopping trip, won’t you?”

Spike leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Of course I will, Mum. Now please try to get some rest. You’re completely knackered, I can tell.”

Anne reached up to cup Spike’s face. “It’s all right, son. You needed to know my part in all this. Even if I didn’t play an active role; it was my blindness that allowed it to go on as long as it did.” Spike opened his mouth and Anne gently placed her thumbs over it, shushing him. “No denials, William. Everything I’ve said is the absolute truth and I’ll not have you trying to absolve me of any responsibility. Someday, I hope you’ll be able to forgive me, but for now I just want you to try to heal. Now go… have a good time.”

Spike nodded then stood up from the bed and walked slowly toward the door. When he reached it, he turned and looked back at Anne. She was lying back on her pillow with her eyes closed, already asleep. Spike looked over her thin, pale form and blinked back a sudden tear as he whispered, “I forgive you.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Buffy juggled her snacks as she fished in her pocket for her keys. “Hey, where’s your snacks? Did you forget them in the bag?”

Spike shook his head. “No, I just bought myself a cup of tea to drink while you ladies talked.”

Buffy looked over the top of the car at him as she pushed the unlock button. “We didn’t have breakfast, Spike, aren’t you hungry? I’m about to starve to death.”

Spike blushed slightly and looked at the ground. “Yeah, I’m hungry, but I’ve learned to ignore it. Da would have me make him somethin’ before he went to work and most days he’d allow me to eat at the same time, so I got used to only eatin’ once a day.”

Buffy’s eyes went wide. “Once a day? You haven’t been eating lunch at school? I know I haven’t seen you in the cafeteria this year, but I figured it was because you brought your own lunch from home.”

Spike shook his head. “No. Da wouldn’t pay for lunch and wouldn’t allow me to bring anythin’ from home, so I usually just hid out in the library durin’ lunch. It’s the safest place… the sports types rarely go there.”

Buffy scowled. “I know I’ve probably mentioned it but… incredible asshole.” She took a deep breath. “All right, we’ll hit the food court as soon as we get there and get some food into you. And when we get home, I’ll ask Mom to put some money in your lunch account at school.” She pulled open her door and dropped into her seat as Spike did the same thing. Then it hit her. “Hey! I’m a sports type and I go to the library all the time!” 

Spike smirked over at her. “Wondered if you were gonna pick up on that, pet. You know I didn’t mean you, right?”

Buffy leaned across the center console and threaded her fingers into the hair on the back of Spike’s head then pulled him into a blistering kiss. When they broke apart, Spike was dazed and panting. Buffy smiled over at him as she fastened her seatbelt and started the car. “Yeah. I know you didn’t mean me.” She nudged his arm and giggled. “Brat.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

“If you want the super-size meal, you can get the super-size meal, Spike. I’m getting one with a chocolate shake, and some nuggets, and one of those yogurt things, and probably an extra order of fries.” At Spike’s small nod, Buffy stepped up to the counter and placed their order, throwing in an order of four cherry pies for the hell of it.

Spike eyed the tray he was carrying as he followed Buffy to a table in the center of the court. “You’re really going to eat all this, pet? How? There’s hardly anythin’ to you, where you gonna put it?”

Buffy sat down and started divvying up the food. “I eat like this all the time. I’ve got a good metabolism and cheerleading keeps me really busy, so I burn it off pretty quick. I’m not one of those girls that exist on salad and water, Spike. I like food.”

Spike chuckled as she kept piling food on her side of the table. “Yeah… I can see that, luv.”

She threw him a playful glare. “Just eat your lunch, brat boy; we’ve got major shopping to do.”

Considering the amount of food stacked in front of the slight girl, it really didn’t take long for her to consume it. She even snagged one of Spike’s cherry pies and bit into it wearing a huge grin as he pretended to try to snatch it back. Spike managed to get through most of his food, leaving about half of his fries and the last cherry pie. He tucked the pie into his pocket for later and quickly cleared the table, depositing the trash into the nearest receptacle. Buffy was still working on her shake when he sat back down and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his distended belly with a groan. “I’m stuffed, luv. Don’t think I’ll need to eat for a week or so.”

Buffy giggled. “Don’t worry; you’ll be starving again by the time we get out of here. I’ve got our route all planned and we’ll be covering most of the mall, so you’re gonna burn it all off.”

Spike chuckled and squinted at the large clock hanging from the middle of the cathedral ceiling. “Only have about five hours if we want to make it back to hospital to visit with Mum. Will that be enough time?”

Buffy nodded at him with a thoughtful look. “Yeah… should be… and we can always come back tomorrow. Why don’t you wear your glasses anymore?”

Spike twitched a little at the sudden change of subject and ran his fingers through his hair. “They were broken.”

“I know, I was there. What I want to know is why you didn’t get new ones.”

Spike shrugged. “Da wouldn’t buy them.”

Buffy scowled. “What about your Mom? Didn’t she notice they were gone?”

Spike shook his head. “No. I had an old pair that I wore when she was at home.”

“What about now? You haven’t been wearing them while you’re visiting. Doesn’t she wonder where they are?”

Spike shrugged. “She did, but I told her that I started carrying them in my pocket and only wear them when needed so they don’t get broken again. As far as she knows, Da took me to get new glasses the day my old ones were broken.”

Buffy’s brow furrowed. “So… you’ve been walking around pretty much blind this whole time?”

Spike shrugged again. “I see well enough.”

Buffy snorted. “Right, so the whole squinting at a huge clock that’s only fifteen feet away thing is ‘well enough’ for you? How far can you see? Clearly, I mean.”

Spike looked around and pointed to the trash receptacle about eight feet from his chair. “I can see the rubbish bin clearly. Anything beyond that is blurry, but I see well enough to keep from walkin’ into things or trippin’ over things.”

Buffy nodded and stood up then moved to the trash bin and stuffed her empty shake cup inside. She stepped back to the table and took Spike’s hand, pulling him to his feet. “Right. We’re getting you some glasses. Let’s go.”

Spike hurried to keep up with her swift strides through the mostly deserted mall. “Where? I’ve no insurance for that, Buffy, and I’m a minor. I need Joyce or Mr. Giles to sign for me or something, don’t I?”

Buffy shook her head as she stopped in front of a mall map. “Nope. This place here…” She pointed to a small blue rectangle that was sandwiched between two orange rectangles. “They’ll make glasses for a dog if it’s got the cash. No parental units required. You could even get contacts if you wanted.” She turned and looked up at him. “Do you want contacts instead of glasses?”

Spike’s brow furrowed. “Um… never much fancied stickin’ bits of plastic in my eyes, but I could get used to it, I suppose. What do you think?”

She smiled. “Well, you look really sexy in your glasses, but they do kind of hide your eyes… maybe we could get both. Then you could decide which you like better.”

Spike nodded with a grin. “I’m game, luv, lead the way. It’ll be nice to be able to see again.”

Buffy leaned up and kissed him gently. “That explains why you stopped smiling back when I’d smile at you. You couldn’t really see me, could you?”

Spike shook his head. “Not clearly, but I knew you were there. Could smell your perfume or lotion or whatever… vanilla with a hint of strawberry, right?” Buffy nodded with a smile. “And I’d listen to you talkin’ with your mates. Love the sound of your voice, kitten. Listenin’ to you made my life bearable, and the few times you were close enough for me to see clearly… you’re beautiful, Buffy. Effulgent.”

Buffy sighed happily and pulled him down into a kiss, only breaking away from his luscious lips when an old woman cleared her throat as she passed by. Buffy turned to smile at her and giggled, “My boyfriend just told me I’m effulgent and for that he gets a kiss… deal with it.” She turned away from the scowling woman and pulled Spike’s lips back to hers, moaning when his tongue traced the seam. The kiss deepened as Buffy slid her fingers into Spike’s hair and pulled him closer. His hands settled on her waist, thumbs brushing lightly against bare skin as their tongues tangled and danced. When they broke away for air, she pressed her forehead to his and murmured. “My boyfriend. God, he’s a good kisser.”

Spike chuckled and moved his lips to Buffy’s neck, nipping lightly as he murmured. “If that’s what a compliment gets me then expect to hear things like that a lot, kitten. Beautiful. Lovely. Ravishing.”

Buffy let him nibble on her neck for a little bit longer then pulled his mouth back to hers, mumbling against his lips. “God, I could do this all day, but we should get going before I let my hands start doing the naughty touching they’re screaming at me to do.” She planted a firm kiss on his mouth then backed up, chest heaving. “Okay. Going to be good Buffy now. No more touching of the smokin’ hot boyfriend.” She took his hand and started leading him down the large, airy passageway. “At least not until we’re out of the mall and somewhere a little more private.”

Spike’s dazed expression melted into a wide grin of anticipation as he followed along behind her.


	15. Peaches

Bruises  
Chapter 15 – Peaches

Spike was sitting on a wide bench inside the last store on Buffy’s list, guarding the ever-growing pile of bags as she browsed through the racks. Whenever she found something she thought he’d like or would look good on him, she brought it over and had him stand up so she could hold it up to him.

So far, he’d gotten several pairs of black jeans, two leather belts – one plain black and one with small silver studs – a stack of punk band t-shirts from the most eclectic store in the mall, two new pairs of Docs, half a dozen plain black t-shirts, a few button down shirts in different colors – each one guaranteed to make him look ‘completely lickable’ according to Buffy – a dozen pairs of socks, and a new duster. He’d argued against the duster, trying to explain it was far too expensive, even if it wasn’t Buffy’s money. However, she’d insisted, arguing that the duster completed the whole punk persona they were building for him. 

She’d also purchased black nail polish and kohl eyeliner. Spike wasn’t too sure about these last two items – but if Buffy said they would look good – well, he’d found that he had a hard time saying ‘no’ to his girl. 

The phrase ‘his girl’ brought a loopy grin to his face while he stared out a large display window, watching people passing by. He could actually see them now, thanks to the two small bits of plastic currently perched on his eyeballs, and he patted his pocket, checking that the small box containing several more sets of contact lenses was still there. 

They’d stopped by the bookstores, but Spike hadn’t found anything that really snagged his interest, so Buffy had promised him that they would hit the bookstore downtown tomorrow. Spike turned and eyed the cluster of bags surrounding his feet, glad that there wasn’t a bag full of books among them. His shoulders and back were already aching from carrying the ever-increasing load around the mall for the past few hours.

Buffy bounced over, carrying a velvety, cobalt blue button down shirt and tugged him to his feet. She held it up to his chest, then smiled and licked her lips. “Yep. Yummy. We’re definitely getting this one.” She turned and bounced away as Spike sat back down with a smile and resumed his people watching. 

A heavy hand on his shoulder startled him and he bolted to his feet, spinning around to face the person behind him. His eyes widened when he realized who it was then his shoulders slumped and he sighed, “Let’s get on with it then.”

Angel looked at him in confusion. “Get on with what?”

Spike looked at him incredulously. “The meetin’ between your fists and my face, obviously, wanker. You’re here to make me pay for you gettin’ suspended, right?”

Angel hung his head in shame. “No. I’m here to apologize.” He lifted his head and looked at Spike. “I’m sorry for all the times I picked on you.”

Spike didn’t answer right away because his jaw was resting on the floor between his scruffy boots. He reeled it in and blinked at Angel. Then he blinked again. “What?” He reached up and jiggled a finger around inside his ear canal. “You wanna run that by me again, mate? Don’t think I heard you properly.”

Angel smiled a little and chuckled at Spike’s reactions. “Okay. I’m sorry for all the times I picked on you, Spike.”

Spike just looked at him in wonder for a few seconds before reaching out and poking Angel lightly in the chest. “Well – you’re real.” He leaned closer and peered at Angel’s face. “And you look like Angel O’Connor.” He reached over and pinched his forearm. “And that hurt, so I’m not dreamin’. Evidently this is really happening.” He turned and looked around the store like he was searching for something. “So – where’s the cameras? I’m bein’ punked, right? Ashton’s gonna show up any minute and we’ll all have a good laugh, and then you and your mates’ll ambush me at school and pound me, yeah? Am I close?”

Angel laughed as he shook his head. “No, you’re not being punked, and I’m really here.”

Spike tilted his head. “Then why?”

Angel’s laughter dried up as he looked at the ground and shuffled his feet just a bit. “Uh… Dad… he… uh… said I have to apologize to you… and uh… Xander, Oz, and Willow, or he’ll take my car.”

Spike’s face twisted into an angry scowl. “So you don’t really mean it then. You’re just here ‘cause you’re bein’ forced. Well you can just sod off, mate. Don’t need your phony apology.”

Spike started to turn around, but Angel reached out and snagged his arm. “Spike… I do mean it.”

Spike snapped, “Take your hand off me.” Angel dropped his hand and Spike faced him. “How’d you find me, anyway? I haven’t been to the shops since last Christmas. What made you look for me here?”

Angel dropped his gaze to the floor again. “Uh… my Dad. He told me you were staying at Buffy’s. I went there first, but her Mom told me you guys were here, so I thought I’d try to catch you before you left.”

Spike’s face transformed into a masterpiece of confusion. “How’d **your** Da know I was stayin’ at Buffy’s?”

Angel cleared his throat nervously. “He’s… uh… the prosecutor in your case.”

Spike’s face blanched and he barely managed to get out a strangled whisper. “You know?” Angel nodded and Spike dropped into a boneless heap on the bench. He leaned over and gripped his hair with his fists, his back heaving like he was about to lose his lunch all over his boots. “How much… how much do you know?”

Angel sat uneasily on the bench next to Spike. “Um… all of it. When he told me where to find you… and uh… why he knew where you were… I kind of… um… snuck into his office and read your case file.”

Spike looked over at him with a fury-filled gaze. “You what!? Why the bloody buggerin’ fuck would you do that!?” He jumped to his feet, fists clenched at his sides. “No, don’t tell me, let me guess. You’re gonna tell everybody at school, aren’t you? Probably itchin’ for your suspension to be over so you can get back and spread the good word, yeah? Let everybody know what a pathetic tosser I am, right?”

Angel shook his head vigorously. “No, Spike! God, just calm down a minute, will you? Let me explain?” Spike just stood there trembling with rage as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

“Angel? What the hell are you doing here? And what the hell did you do to Spike?” Buffy dropped the shirts she was holding and rushed forward, wrapping her arms around Spike as she leaned up to murmur in his ear, “Just calm down, Spike. God, you look like you’re about to commit murder or something.” Spike didn’t respond, he just kept trembling and clenching his hands into fists. Buffy turned toward Angel, giving him a hate-filled glare. “What. The. Hell.”

Angel looked up at his pissed ex-girlfriend and held up his hands. “I’m trying to explain, Buffy. I’m not here to cause trouble.”

Spike snarled, “He knows. Everything. Fucker read my case file.”

Buffy screeched, “You what!?” The associates behind the counter turned toward the tense scene and Buffy angrily waved them off. “I’ve got this. Mind your business.” When they’d turned back around and resumed their tasks, Buffy stepped closer to Angel and hissed, “I am so going to Kick. Your. Ass.”

Angel hurriedly slid to the end of the bench and scurried around it, putting it between him and the livid blonde girl standing next to Spike with both their fists clenched. 

“Will you two just chill out? Jesus! I’m not going to tell anybody, okay? I swear!” He looked at Spike as he backed up a step and held up his hands. “Look, here’s what went down. Dad told me that I had to apologize and that you were at Buffy’s and to go there because you weren’t in school this week either, and because I can’t set foot on the property for another two weeks, I have to go to everybody’s houses by tomorrow or my car…” 

When Spike took a step forward, Angel stuttered to a stop and swallowed hard. “Okay… anyway… I asked him how he knew you were at Buffy’s and he told me he was prosecuting a case having to do with you… and I know I shouldn’t have, but I snuck into his office and read the file. Fuck, Spike… I saw the pictures…”

Spike lunged toward the bench followed closely by Buffy. Angel backpedaled until his legs hit the railing on the display window behind him and he squeaked, “I’m sorry!” 

Spike vaulted the bench and fisted his hands in Angel’s shirt, bending him backwards over the railing. “You’ve seen ‘em? You’ve seen what’s been done to me? Well start laughin’ while you’ve the chance, mate. I know you want to… bloody funny, innit? Right bloody riot, it is. The pathetic loser pounded on by his own Da!”

Angel wasn’t laughing. Actually, he looked terrified and Buffy stepped up next to Spike and reached for his fists, gently untwisting his fingers out of Angel’s shirt. “I don’t think Angel thinks it’s funny, Spike. Maybe we should let him explain some more.”

Spike backed up and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re lucky she’s here, mate. Right bloody fed up with the lot of you. I’m thinkin’ it’s way past time for me to stop takin’ a beatin’ and start dishin’ ‘em out. So get to talkin’.”

Angel straightened his shirt and looked at Spike with an earnest expression. “Okay. First, I came here to apologize. I really am sorry, and I know it’s not an excuse, but I let what Riley and the other guys think of me push me into treating people like they do. It’s stupid and I’m going to stop. I swear.” He looked at Buffy. “I know I’ve promised this before, but I mean it, Buffy. I’m stopping. What I did to Spike yesterday was the last time.” He took a deep breath. “And second, I wanted to tell you something, Spike.” 

Angel paused and Spike quirked an eyebrow and made a curt _‘well… get on with it’_ motion. Angel cleared his throat and swallowed heavily. “Okay, I don’t mean to sound… I don’t know… mushy… or whatever… but damn, Spike, you’ve got a serious set of brass balls to have put up with that shit for as long as you did. The punishment you took… fuck… some of the toughest guys on the team would’ve been crying like little girls if they’d got even half of what you did. And on top of what your Dad was doing, you had to deal with all of us at school. I know I couldn’t have done it. So yeah, that’s all I wanted to say.” He turned toward the door then stopped and turned back. “I’m not going to tell anybody about your Dad and stuff, and when I get back to school, I’ll try to get Riley and the other guys to lay off you. I don’t know if they’ll listen, but I’m gonna try.”

Buffy reached out and snagged Angel’s arm. “Angel? You’re serious? You do realize that you’ll be treated like a leper by those idiots, right?”

Angel shrugged. “Yeah… probably.”

Buffy smirked and moved next to Spike, wrapping her arm around his waist. “Most of them only hang out with me because they have to, you know, because I’m Head Cheerleader and everything. They don’t actually like me and I don’t really like them. You sure you’re up for that? Being an outcast most of the time?”

Angel shrugged again. “I’ll deal. I’d rather be alone than have to try to live with the guilt anymore. See you guys at school.”

Spike stepped forward this time and snagged Angel’s sleeve as he turned toward the door. “Angel… um… thanks.” He smirked. “And not to sound… mushy… or anything… but if you’d like… you could… um… ”

Buffy stepped up beside Spike and looked up at him with a question in her eyes. Spike nodded and Buffy smiled over at Angel as she wrapped her arm around Spike’s waist again. “What Spike… usually the master of the humongoid word and expertly turned phrase… is trying so eloquently to say is… you’re welcome to hang with us if you want.”

Angel looked at both of them in shock. “You mean, after everything I’ve done, you want to be friends with me?”

Spike chuckled, ‘Well, I’m not sayin’ that we’re gonna have sleepovers and braid each other’s hair, but yeah, we can be mates. ‘Sides, you know all my dirty little secrets, don’t you? Wanna keep you close – make sure you don’t start runnin’ off at the mouth ‘bout it.”

Angel shook his head vehemently. “I’m not going to tell anybody. I swear that to you, Spike. I know my word probably doesn’t mean much, but there it is. I promise.” Buffy smiled and hugged Spike closer, leaning up to give him a gentle kiss as Angel looked on with wide eyes. “So… you two seem… uh… close.”

Spike wrapped his arm possessively around Buffy. “She’s my girl now, Peaches. That gonna be a problem?”

Angel shook his head and stepped back just a bit at Spike’s menacing tone. “No… we broke up… so… no.” He smiled at Buffy. “Just as long as you’re happy, I’m happy for you.” 

Buffy grinned. “I’m happy, Angel, and thanks.” She stepped close to Angel and wrapped him in a hug. “Sorry for the massively public break-up, though. I hope you can forgive me for embarrassing you like that.”

Angel wrapped his arms tentatively around Buffy while he glanced warily up at Spike’s watchful gaze. “Hey, no problem. That’s part of what woke me up to how big of an asshole I was being. I mean, if my own girlfriend jumps my shit to protect some random guy… then I must’ve been a real dick.” He let Buffy go and smiled down at her then nodded at Spike. “Guess he wasn’t so random, though, was he? How long?”

Buffy laughed and looked over her shoulder at Spike. “Only since he moved here, so… not long, I guess.” She stepped back and wrapped her arm around Spike. “You know, I’ve seen Cordelia checking you out more than once and she about talked my ear off asking questions about you. Maybe you should ask her out or something. Bet she wouldn’t say no.”

Angel shrugged, wearing a shy smile. “Yeah… maybe. Uh… look. I should go. I’ve still got to track down Xander, Willow, and Oz.” He sighed and tipped his head back to look at the ceiling. “I just hope that none of their parents own guns or have dogs to sic on me or anything.” He ran his hands through his hair. “This is gonna be real fun. Yeah.”

Buffy looked up at Spike and he shrugged. “Up to you, pet. They’re your mates.”

Buffy nodded and looked over at Angel. “Do you think your Dad would give you a little more time for the apology thing if you told him that we were going to go with you? I mean… if you show up at Willow’s house by yourself she is totally going to wig. Remember the whole ‘she’s terrified of you’ thing? And Xander’s dad will probably beat your ass. He’s so not happy that he had to pay Xan’s emergency room bill. Oz’s parents… well… they’d probably invite you in and share a bowl with you… Um… I could maybe get the three of them to meet us at the Bronze tomorrow after school or something, if that would work.”

Angel gasped in surprise. “You’d do that?”

Buffy smiled. “Sure, that’s what friends are for, right?”

Angel smiled in relief. “Yeah. That would be awesome. And I’m going to pay for Xander’s medical bills, I just need to know how much so I can pull the money out of my savings. I already gave my Dad the money for Oz’s bass. You were right, Buffy, those things are expensive.”

Buffy stepped over and scooped up the shirts off the floor, calling back over her shoulder as she headed for the checkout. “Yeah, they are. I’ll call Xander and ask him tonight then give you a call, okay?”

Angel nodded. “That would be great, Buffy, thanks.”

Spike stepped into the middle of the cluster of shopping bags and started picking them up. “Oi, be a mate and give me a hand with these, would you? Think Buffy’s tryin’ to turn me into a pack mule.”

Angel smiled and started picking up bags. “Wow, this is a lot of stuff.”

Spike groaned under the weight of the bags hanging from his hands. “Don’t I know it. Been luggin’ ‘em around the entire bleedin’ mall for the better part of the afternoon.”

Angel peered into a few of the bags he held. “What is all this?”

Spike looked up at him, his expression slightly defensive. “Things for me. Buffy’s put it on the card her Da gave her.”

Angel burst out laughing. “Shit. I’d love to see Hank’s face when he gets that bill. It’ll be priceless.”

Spike smirked. “You’ve met her Da?”

Angel grinned. “Yeah. Once. He blew through town the week school started. That’s when he gave her that card. Told her to go out and have fun with it, buy clothes, get her hair done, stuff like that. He’s going to shit when he gets the bill and sees that she used it to buy stuff for her boyfriend.”

Spike dropped his bags and pulled the duster out of one of the larger ones then unfurled it and held it up. “Wait ‘til he sees the charge for this then. Twelve hundred. Handmade in Italy or some rot. Got it at that high-end leather shop at the other end of the mall.”

Angel’s eyes went wide as Spike slipped the duster on. “Holy shit.” He backed up a step and looked Spike over. “Got to say, though, looks good on you. Not many people can pull that off. What happened to the one you had last year?”

Spike shrugged. “Da binned it. Along with the rest of my belongings. Wasn’t that in the file?”

Angel dropped his gaze to the floor, a sheepish look overtaking his features. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

Buffy walked up carrying another stuffed shopping bag. She dropped it at Spike’s feet then stepped close to him and slid her arms inside the duster, wrapping him in a tight hug. “God, you look hot in this thing. And I don’t mean in the it’s warm in here way…” She leaned up, whispering in his ear, “I mean in the can’t wait to get you out of it way.” 

Spike groaned quietly when she tugged on his earlobe before stepping back. “Yeah, time to go.” He reached down and picked up his allotment of bags again then headed for the exit quickly, followed by a smirking Buffy.

Angel followed them with a sappy smile on his face then frowned slightly as they stepped out into the weak October sunshine. “Hey, Spike… Peaches?”


	16. Under the Jail

Bruises  
Chapter 16 – Under the Jail

“But I’m sure your Mom is going to want to see what we got you, Spike.”

Spike groaned, “I’m not haulin’ all that up six floors only to haul it all back down in an hour, luv. I can just show her a few things and she’ll be happy, all right? My shoulders and back are already killin’ me.”

Buffy looked at the jumbled pile of bags in the back of her car. She’d cleaned out the car that morning while Spike had still been asleep and had laid down the back seats to accommodate all the stuff she knew they’d be getting at the mall and her little car was crammed full. She peeked at Spike over her shoulder – a tiny bit upset that she wasn’t going to get her way, even though she knew that if she kept after him, he’d eventually give in – and also silently cheering inside that he was becoming comfortable enough with her to stand up for himself. She finally decided that he was right; she couldn’t ask him to carry all that stuff anywhere else except up to his room. She turned around and smiled warmly. “Okay, Spike. Maybe just grab one of your new t-shirts and a pair of jeans. You could change somewhere before we go up to see Anne.”

Spike wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair with a smile. “Ta, pet. My back thanks you, too.”

Buffy slid her hands inside the duster then under his shirt and rubbed lightly over the skin of his back. “If you don’t think it’ll hurt too much, I could give you a massage when we get home.”

Spike shook his head. “As good as that sounds, luv, the bruises and whatnot are still too fresh. A hot shower’ll have to do me for now.” He leaned back and smirked at her. “Might take you up on that offer later, though… once I’ve healed.”

She pulled him close and leaned up to kiss him. “Might have to let you. Just think, Spike, my hot little hands rubbing you… all… over.”

Spike groaned, “God, Buffy, you’re tryin’ to kill me, aren’t you?” He stepped back and looked down at the large bulge that had appeared suddenly in his jeans. “I’m ‘bout to see my Mum and look at me.”

Buffy giggled and pulled him close again. “I’m sorry, Spike. You just make me so hot, and I just really want to do things… naughty things.” She reached down and squeezed him lightly through his jeans. “I’ll help you with this later. Mom now, then dinner, then… help.”

Spike clenched his teeth and whispered, “Bloody hell,” as he closed his eyes and tried to get himself under control. Buffy stepped away and started digging through the bags as Spike took several deep breaths and willed himself not to think about later. He started chanting low under his breath, “Going to see Mum… Going to see Mum.” until his erection had waned somewhat and he didn’t feel that he was going to embarrass himself in front of his mother. 

When he opened his eyes, Buffy was holding a pair of jeans, a plain black t-shirt, his studded belt, and the blue velvet button down. She smiled up at him. “You okay now?”

Spike grinned. “I’ll manage. Just don’t… uh… remind me about later and I should be fine.”

Buffy laughed, “I’ll try, now let’s go see your Mom.” She passed the stuff to him and slipped into the driver’s seat to put the roof up and lock the car, then took his free hand in hers and started for the hospital. They took three steps and Buffy stopped suddenly. “Crap!”

Spike stopped as well and looked at her curiously. “Crap, luv?”

She looked up at him with a smile. “I know what we forgot to buy you today.”

Spike glanced back at the car with a smirk. “What could we possibly have forgotten, pet? You bought out half the bleedin’ mall.”

Buffy giggled, “Underwear.”

A blush started creeping up Spike’s cheeks as he dropped his gaze and stared at his boots. “Uh… that’s all right, luv. Found out I didn’t much care for ‘em after I’d been without ‘em for a while. ‘S why I didn’t bring it up when we were at the shop.”

Buffy leaned into him and breathed against his ear, “Mmmm… my boyfriend goes commando. That is so sexy. Maybe I should too.”

Spike groaned loudly and looked down at the front of his jeans. “Oh… bloody hell.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Spike stepped out of the bathroom down the hall from Anne’s room, clutching his old clothes to his chest. Buffy took them as she looked up at him. “You want to burn these, too, or just throw them out?”

He frowned, then stood up straight and squared his shoulders. “Burn ‘em. I want to burn all of it, every last scrap, even the boots.”

Buffy smiled. “Okay, burning it is.” She tucked the bundle under her arm and reached for Spike’s hand. “You look hot, Spike. Major yum.”

Spike blushed and ducked his head slightly. “Ta, Buffy. Feel better wearin’ this stuff, too. Stronger.”

Buffy leaned up and brushed a gentle kiss across his lips. “You’ve always been strong, Spike, now you just look the part. And when you show up at school looking like the Big Bad again… well, I don’t think Angel will have to do much convincing to get the dumbasses to leave you alone.”

They started walking toward Anne’s room and Buffy stopped when she saw a dark-haired woman striding toward them from the other end of the hallway. “Faithy? What are you doing here?”

Faith walked up and smiled at Buffy. “Hey, B. Came to talk to Mrs. Pratt, got some news.” She backed up and looked Spike up and down. “Good look on you, Spike. It fits.” She reached up and pushed his hair out of his face. “You might want to do something with your hair, though.” She backed up and looked him over again, her head tilting. “Maybe shorter and lighter or something. You doing okay? B treating you right?” She leaned close and whispered, “She can be a little bitchy, especially first thing in the morning.”

Buffy yelped, “Faith!”

Spike chuckled, “I’m doin’ fine, Detective, and Buffy has been wonderful. Not bitchy at all.”

Faith bumped his shoulder with her own. “Call me Faith, remember? Now let’s get in there and talk to your Mom, I’ve got to get back to the station.”

The three of them entered Anne’s room, Spike in the lead. He walked over to the bed and sat down then reached for Anne’s hand and grasped it gently. “Mum? Wake up. Detective LeHane is here to speak with you.”

Anne blinked slowly then opened her eyes and yawned widely. She blushed and covered her mouth. “I do apologize, I’ve just been so tired today, can’t seem to get enough sleep.”

Spike looked her over. “You look better, Mum. You’ve more color in your cheeks.”

Faith stepped up next to the bed. “I know why you’re sick, Mrs. Pratt.” She turned to Buffy, “You should probably sit down for this,” then nodded at Spike. Buffy took the hint and sat down on the bed behind him then wrapped her arms tightly around his middle. Faith reached into her pocket and pulled out a photograph, handing it to Anne. “What you’re looking at is a vial of some unknown substance that we recovered from your husband after his arrest. It’s currently at the crime lab being analyzed, but your husband told us it was… a poison.”

Spike’s eyes narrowed in fury as Anne gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth again. “James was going to poison me?”

“Not going to… has been. He said he’s been putting that stuff in your food since May. It’s what made you sick enough to be hospitalized, and he’s continued to give it to you in small doses that would keep making you sicker so that your death would look natural. It’s very rare, according to him, and virtually undetectable, even if you know what to look for. He’s been putting it in the food on your dinner tray, that’s why he would show up every day to ‘help’ the nurse bring in your dinner.” 

Spike took the photo from Anne and peered at it then held it up. “This looks like a lot.”

Faith nodded. “It is. According to James, it’s thirty times the normal dose… the last of his supply.”

Spike’s eyes widened in realization and Anne looked ready to pass out altogether as Spike whispered, “He was going to kill her yesterday, wasn’t he? Didn’t want to wait any longer for her to die.”

Faith nodded again. “Yeah.”

Spike and Anne both asked at the same time, “Why?”

Faith took a deep breath and moved to the chair next to the bed. “He had it all worked out. Anne dies suddenly, but she’s been so sick that nobody thinks anything of it; they just figure that her body finally gave out. Spike, in his grief over the loss of his mother, drops out of school. James collects Anne’s inheritance, sells the business – which is already in the works, by the way, he’s got a buyer ready to sign – and moves his troubled son to a secluded cabin in Montana that he’s already purchased. Then he has all the time in the world to…”

Spike interrupted with a disgusted sneer. “Beat on me, among other things.”

Faith nodded. “Yeah. I received the report about an hour ago from the team in Montana that checked out the cabin. He had it completely outfitted and stocked; the last shipment of food and whatnot arrived yesterday. You were never going to see the outside of that place once he got you inside, Spike. He said he was going to keep you for as long as you held out and then go find another boy. He wasn’t sure he’d get the same high from beating a stranger as he did from beating you, but he was gonna try it anyway.”

Anne suddenly reached for the emesis basin on the table next to her bed and retched loudly into it. Spike jumped to his feet and wrapped his arm over her shoulders as he tapped repeatedly on the call button secured to her bed railing. “It’s ok, Mum. I’ve called the nurse. Breathe, Mum… please breathe.”

Three nurses rushed into the room and Spike moved away from the bed as they took over with a flurry of activity, speaking in strange medical terms and raiding the supply cart parked by the door. Buffy joined Spike in the corner, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head on his chest as Faith got up from the chair and moved to stand next to them. She laid her hand on Spike’s arm. “She’ll be okay, Spike. It might take a while for all the poison to work its way out of her system, but eventually she’ll be okay.”

Spike nodded, not taking his eyes off the activity around the bed. “What ‘bout Da? This change anything?”

Faith leaned back against the wall and hooked her thumbs into her belt. “Talked to O’Connor on the way over here. He’s gonna add attempted murder to the list of charges, and as soon as we’ve verified what poison it is… James told us the name, but I can’t pronounce it… probably a few counts of assault with a deadly weapon. And since your father’s confessed…”

Spike narrowed his eyes as he interrupted, “He’s just told you all this? Freely? You didn’t have to do anythin’ to make him talk?”

Faith shook her head. “Nope. Basically, he’s had diarrhea of the mouth since he came to after being tazed. I advised him of his right to remain silent, but he waived it and just started talking. We’ve gone through half a dozen transcriptionists since we got him back to the station – his statement’s almost novel size – so from here on in; it’s pretty much just administrative. No trial, no plea bargaining, and he’s asked for a quick sentencing when the list of charges is complete. Once it is, O’Connor will go in front of the judge and give his recommendations, along with Miss Maclay and a few others. Basically, they’re going to make sure that your father ends up **under** the jail. He’ll never see freedom again, Spike. Never.”

“Will Mum or I ever have to see him again?”

Faith shook her head. “Because there won’t be a trial, there shouldn’t be any reason that you’d have to see him… unless you want to.”

Spike shook his head vigorously. “No, I bloody well don’t want to. I ever clap eyes on him again… I’ll fucking kill him, I swear to God.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Anne had eventually calmed down and had managed to eat a little bit of her dinner even with Spike hovering over her protectively the whole time. She’d commented on his new clothes, saying that he looked ‘quite handsome’ and that she especially liked the blue shirt because it complimented his beautiful blue eyes. Then she’d completely floored Spike when she told him that she’d always liked him in the duster because it made him look ‘dashing and rakish.’

Buffy had called Joyce and explained why they were going to be late, but Spike hadn’t wanted to leave at all, even when the nurse came in at nine-thirty and explained – rather forcefully – that visiting hours had ended over two hours ago and they really needed to go so Anne could rest. Anne had assured Spike that she felt a lot better and that he should go home and get some rest as well. He’d promised to visit again in the morning, then had hugged her tightly and finally left, clinging tightly to Buffy’s hand all the way to the car. 

He’d been mostly quiet on the drive home, just sitting and staring out the window while he clutched Buffy’s hand in a tight grip. Buffy startled slightly when he suddenly squeezed her hand tighter and whispered, “That bloody wanker was gonna kill my Mum. Almost did, too.” He looked over at her with tears shining in his eyes and Buffy hurriedly pulled into the first parking lot she came to. 

She put the car in park and turned it off then twisted in her seat and faced Spike. His hands flew up to her head as he leaned close, pressing their foreheads together. “You not only saved me… you saved her. Thank you, Buffy. I wish there was more I could say. God… just… thank you.”

He scooted as close as he could and wrapped his arms tightly around her, burying his face in her neck as he started sobbing. Buffy wrapped her arms around him, making shushing noises as she reached up to smooth his hair. After a while, his sobbing tapered off into hitching breaths and she continued to hold him as he calmed, murmuring quietly against his hair. 

He took a deep shuddering breath then squeezed her tight for a second and sat up. He leaned forward and fished around on the floor for his old shirt then roughly scrubbed it across his face. His sudden bark of laughter made Buffy jump. “Bloody hell… Peaches. Gonna have to thank him as well, I suppose. After all, he’s the one set us in motion.” He looked over at Buffy with a watery smile. “Hopefully I won’t start sobbin’ on his shoulder like a bleedin’ nancy. I seem to be doin’ that a lot lately.”

Buffy took his old shirt with a grin and made a show of wiping off her shoulder. “Yeah, it is kinda… messy… all with the Spike snot and everything.” When his smile brightened just a bit, she tossed the shirt back to him and reached for his hand. “You can sob on my shoulder anytime, Spike. Like I said, they can handle a lot.” Her grin changed to a smirk. “You’d probably wig Angel out, though. Actually, I’d love to see the look on his face… can you cry on command?”

Spike chuckled, “Don’t know, luv. Never tried.”

Buffy leaned over for a quick kiss then restarted the car. “Let’s get home. We’ve got dinner to eat and some stuff to burn.”


	17. Fire Pit

Bruises  
Chapter 17 – Fire Pit

It took three trips to get everything up to Spike’s room because Buffy refused to let him carry anything, instead sending him into the kitchen to eat. He’d grumbled and complained that it wasn’t proper for her to haul everything and she’d put on her resolve face and told him that because he’d carried it all over the mall, then she could damn well get it up to his room. He’d finally caved when she’d told him that the longer he argued with her, the longer he’d have to wait for his ‘help.’

Rupert and Joyce had already been filled in by Faith about the poison issue, and only stopped into the kitchen long enough to tell them both not to stay up too late. Joyce told them that she’d talk to them in the morning about their plans for the day and gave them both a hug before following Rupert up the stairs. Buffy ate quickly then watched as Spike picked up the bag full of his old clothing from the corner and carried it out to the back yard. 

The fire pit was located on the right side of the yard, about fifteen feet from the pool. It was sunken into the middle of a circular bricked patio and was surrounded by small tables, chairs, and cushioned chaise lounges. Buffy gathered the supplies needed to start a fire from the small equipment shed in the corner of the yard and set them on the edge of the pit then turned to Spike. “I’m gonna run back inside for a minute and get a blanket. Be right back.”

Spike watched her jog into the house then walked up to the edge of the pit and dropped the bag of clothes. He knelt beside it and unzipped the bag then removed each article of clothing one at a time, stacking them up next to the pit and setting his second pair of old boots beside them. When the bag was empty, he tossed it into the grass at the edge of the patio and sat down to pull his old boots off. He debated the removal of the dog tags from the laces, but they held no special meaning for him, they were just something he’d found that he thought would look good. He left them where they were and set those boots beside the others then peeled off his holey socks and stuffed them into the boots. He stretched out his legs and leaned back on his hands as he stared up at the stars and waited for Buffy to come back.

He sat up and turned around when he heard the back door slam. A large, black, puffy blanket was walking across the lawn, topped by a tiny bit of blonde hair. Spike jumped up and met it halfway across the yard, laughing as he took the king size comforter from Buffy. “Think you could’ve found a larger blanket, luv?”

She giggled as she followed him back down to the pit. “It’s off your bed. Mom changed the bedding back to its normal set, so no more lacy pillows, Spike, sorry.”

Spike chuckled and dropped the blanket onto the large chaise lounge that she’d tugged over next to the pit. She motioned for him to follow her over to the pool area and had him pull a huge umbrella out of one of the tables. He carried it over to the chaise and set it down where she indicated, balanced on one edge and the end of the pole, then watched her in confusion as she adjusted the umbrella then looked up at the house and adjusted it again. “Uh… pet? Sun’s not up and it’s not rainin’, so what’s the umbrella for? Not that it’d do much good lying on the ground like that.”

Buffy sat down on the chaise and looked toward the house. “Perfect. Now Mom and Dad won’t be able to see us if they get a case of the nosies and start peeking out the windows.”

Spike turned and looked at the house then blushed furiously as he wondered what exactly they were going to be doing on the chaise that she didn’t want Joyce and Mr. Giles to see. His eyes suddenly widened as he remembered Dawn. “Um… kitten? What ‘bout your little sis?”

Buffy laughed, “She sleeps like the dead, Spike. You could send a marching band through her room and she wouldn’t even twitch.” She bounced out of the chair and moved to the edge of the pit to start building the fire. It was only then that Spike finally noticed she’d changed her clothes. Gone were the jeans and tank top. Now she was wearing a pink, fuzzy bathrobe that hit her around mid-calf. It had fallen off her shoulder and he could see a large portion of her upper back, and as far as he could tell, she wasn’t wearing anything under it. He swallowed heavily as a bulge started growing in the front of his tight jeans.

Once the fire was blazing merrily, Buffy stood up and motioned him over to the pit. “Okay, Spike. You get to do the honors.”

Spike stepped up next to the pile of clothes and bent to pick up the first item – the shirt he’d been wearing earlier that day. He looked at it for a long minute then tossed it into the flames. The rest of the pile followed quickly, topped by the four clunky boots. Spike stood staring at the flames as they licked and charred the cloth and leather then startled slightly when Buffy stepped up behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle. “Come sit down, Spike.”

She led him to the chaise and gently pushed him down, then settled herself between his legs and leaned back against his chest. His hands were lying on his thighs as she pulled the puffy blanket over them both and snuggled in. They laid there and watched the fire as Buffy lightly traced the fingers of his left hand. Her other hand was doing something under the blanket and Spike realized what it was when she lifted his left hand and placed it on her belly… her bare belly. She’d untied the belt of her robe and pushed it open. She laid her head back on his shoulder and breathed against his ear. “Touch me, Spike. Please.”

Spike groaned low in his throat as she guided his left hand up her torso and bumped it lightly against her breast. He froze and swallowed again then whispered, “I don’t know what to do, Buffy. I’ve never…”

Buffy lifted his hand and placed it directly on her naked breast. “Just touch me, Spike. Feel me.” Spike nodded and slid his hand lightly over her soft skin, feeling her nipple harden into a peak in his palm. He slid his fingers over it, eliciting a gasp from Buffy, and then lightly pinched. That earned him a moan of, “Use both hands.”

He lifted his right hand and slid it lightly up her stomach, cupping her breast as he pinched the nipple. Buffy moved slightly and moaned softly as he continued to knead and caress her breasts. He listened intently, taking careful note of the noises she made as he tried different things – sussing out what she liked.

She wrapped her fingers around his left wrist and tugged it lightly, moving it down her stomach until his fingers brushed against coarse, wiry hair. “Touch me more, Spike. God, you make me feel so good.” She let go of his wrist and raised her arms, wrapping them around his neck as she lifted her legs and draped them over his, opening herself to his questing fingers. 

He slid his fingers over her moist folds then froze when they brushed against a raised bud and she jerked in his arms. “There, Spike. Touch me there.” He slid his fingertip over the bud, trying different pressures and directions of motion as he paid close attention to her responses. When he’d found the pressure and pattern of movement that she seemed to like the best, he went to town. 

She was writhing and panting as he stroked her hard then she lifted his right hand off her breast and almost shoved it between her legs. “In me, Spike. Put your fingers in me.” He gulped, the pressure in his jeans starting to border on painful as he slid the first two fingers of his right hand into her drenched slit. She arched against him, moaning loudly as his left hand continued to rub and flick her engorged nubbin and he pumped his right hand forcefully into her. When his fingertips bumped against a raised area on her inner front wall, she wailed, “God… right there!”

He pumped deeper, making sure to hit that spot on each thrust as his left hand pressed more forcefully. She was panting and calling his name as she clenched her hands in his hair, then suddenly she froze, her entire body taut yet trembling as her inner walls clenched spasmodically around his fingers and her nubbin pulsed wildly. She screamed out, “Spike!” then collapsed against him, breathing hard.

He left his hands where they were, the fingers of his right hand still buried deep and moving slowly, and the ones on his left hand stroking her lightly as she shuddered in his arms. Suddenly she tensed again, moaning loudly as her nubbin started pulsing and her walls clenched. She collapsed against him again and whispered, “That’s two. God, you’re good at this, Spike. You’re sure this is your first time?”

Spike nodded and whispered in a raspy voice. “Yes… did I do all right?”

Buffy threw the blanket off and Spike’s eyes went dinner-plate wide at the sight of a naked girl wrapped in his arms with his hands nested between her splayed legs. “You did better than just all right. You made me scream, Spike… and if you’re that good with just your hands… I can’t wait to see what you do with the rest of your body.”

She gently removed his hands and laid them lightly on his thighs then stood up, letting the robe drop to the ground at her feet. Spike stared at her in amazement as the firelight danced over her bronzed skin then he pulled in a shuddering breath and whispered reverently, “Beautiful.” She bent down wearing a smile and grasped his hand, pulling him to his feet. She pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck then captured his mouth in a deep, tongue tangling kiss. He slid his arms around her waist, relishing the feel of her soft skin against his, but still kept his hands in a respectable spot. 

Buffy slipped her hands under his shirt and trailed them lightly across his back as she nibbled on his neck. She backed up and tugged the shirt over his head, dropping it to the ground next to her robe, then started unbuckling his belt as she leaned up and captured his bottom lip lightly in her teeth. “Your turn.”

His jeans joined the pile of discarded clothing as she pushed him back down on the chaise and straddled his thighs. Her hand wrapped around him and started stroking slowly as she leaned in and kissed him deeply then started nibbling down his neck. His hands were resting lightly on her thighs and she whispered against his collar bone. “You can touch me, Spike. Anywhere you want.”

He slipped his hands up to her waist as she nibbled and kissed a path down his chest then swirled her tongue around one nipple and pulled it sharply into her mouth. Spike gasped and his hands tightened on her waist then slid up her back as she continued her path down over his stomach, stopping when her chin bumped against the head. She looked up at him through her hair as she swirled her tongue around the tip then took him deep into her mouth. His fingers tangled in her hair, holding it off her face, and he watched her lips stretch around him as she bobbed her head, her small hand stroking the length that wouldn’t fit in her mouth. He was panting harshly and gently thrusting his hips when her other hand slid up his thigh and started gently fondling his velvety sac. His fingers tightened their grip on her hair and his whole body clenched then shuddered as he released deep in the back of her mouth. “Oh God! Buffy!” 

He collapsed bonelessly against the chaise as her tongue swirled over him, catching every last drop. She released him with a soft pop and crawled back up his body then settled herself beside him and laid her head on his chest, her ear pressed against the skin over his hammering heart. She reached down and snagged the edge of the blanket and Spike helped pull it over them then wrapped his arms tightly around her. She lifted her head and placed a few light kisses to his chest then laid it back down with a contented sigh. “Did that ‘help’ you, Spike?”

Spike chuckled and reached up to card his fingers through her hair. “Yeah, pet, I’m helped. Thank you. You were wonderful.”

She nodded against his chest and they laid there watching the fire until it died down, then Buffy lifted up and snagged his lips in a kiss. “We better get to bed.” She climbed off him and Spike sat up, reaching for his jeans as Buffy slipped into her robe. She laid her hand over his, stilling him. “You can leave them off if you want.”

He stood and looked over the umbrella at the wide expanse of lawn that separated him from the back door. “Um… not that I’m not used to bein’ starkers, pet… just… uh… not outside… and with your parents… um…”

Buffy giggled, “Just wrap up in the blanket. It’d be silly to get dressed just to get undressed again in five minutes.” She bent down and scooped up his jeans and t-shirt then started for the house.

Spike wrapped the blanket around himself and followed after her, trying to hold up the edges so he wouldn’t trip and face plant in the middle of the back yard. Buffy held the door open and waited for him to go through then followed him up the stairs; reaching up to pinch his backside just as he’d gained the landing. He yelped, “Oi!” and darted into his room then dropped the blanket and caught her in a hug as soon as she stepped through the door.

She kicked the door shut then wrapped her arms around him and leaned up for a kiss as he slid his hands under her unbelted robe and gently caressed her back. When they broke apart, she looked up at him wearing a wicked grin and stepped over next to the bed, sliding the robe down her arms and letting it drop to the floor. “You know… the yummy sushi pajamas I wore last night are my only pair, and sadly, they’re dirty now… so I guess I’ll just have to sleep naked.” 

Spike gulped.


	18. Moonbeam

Bruises  
Chapter 18 – Moonbeam

Spike sighed and snuggled closer to the warm flesh that his head was resting on as Buffy’s small fingers carded gently through his hair. They tugged slightly and he could hear the smile in her voice as she asked quietly, “You awake?”

He nodded slightly and murmured, “Yeah. You been up long?”

She giggled lightly, “About half an hour. Mom was just here and we talked for a little while. She’s going to the gallery and said that we can do whatever we want today as long as we’re home in time for dinner.”

Spike digested this information as his brain continued to boot up. He moved his head slightly, his cheek sliding along soft skin and his nose bumping up against… something. He cracked an eye and looked down at the end of his nose then yelped and bolted up, eyes wide. Buffy was lying on a large, red satin pillow as she smiled up at him. And she was naked. The blanket was pulled up to her waist, but her torso was bare and that’s where his head had been just a moment ago with his nose bumping up against her breast. He scrubbed his hands over his face and muttered, “Bloody hell.” 

Buffy reached out and trailed her finger lightly down his chest. “What’s the matter?”

Spike motioned at her naked form then pointed at the door. “You’re starkers. I was lyin’ on you while you were starkers. And your Mum saw.”

Buffy lifted the blanket off her legs and scooted close, pulling him into a hug. “Mom’s seen me naked before, Spike.”

Spike focused his miserable gaze on the headboard. “That may be, but did any of those times include a bare-arsed bloke snoozin’ on your chest? She didn’t find it odd that neither of us were wearin’ pajamas?”

Buffy shook her head. “No, I’ve slept naked since I was like eight or something, so it’s odd when I **wear** pajamas. And I explained that you wanted to put something on but I talked you out of it. It’s really fine, Spike. Like I said, my parents are really open about this kind of stuff. You and I are dating… exclusively… so they expect us to be naked together. Besides, you should see the two of them when they get together with their friends and eat Mom’s _‘special brownies.’_ You’d think they were the teenagers.”

Spike pulled back and smirked. “Special brownies?”

Buffy giggled and flopped back on the pillow, her breasts bouncing slightly. She captured Spike’s hand and laid it on her stomach then twined their fingers together. “Yeah. Mom makes them every once in a while and my parents and their group of friends… I call them the Wild Bunch… go out and tear up the town. The last time she made some, she and Dad ended up having sex on the hood of a police car during some kind of festival in LA.”

Spike’s mouth fell open in shock for a moment then he collected himself and cleared his throat. “Well, I’m sure that happened some time ago. Mr. Giles is the Principal, after all, and it wouldn’t be proper…”

“It was last summer, Spike, like four months ago.” Spike’s mouth fell open again and Buffy burst out laughing at the look of scandalized shock on his face. “Dad pretty much turns into the complete opposite of a stuffy, tweedy, upper-crust gentleman when he’s on the brownies. His nickname is Ripper, if that gives you any idea. You know Mr. Rayne, the Chemistry teacher?” Spike nodded dumbly. “He’s an old friend of Dad’s. They went to school together over in England and boy; you should hear some of the things they did when they were younger.”

Spike sputtered, “But your Mum…”

Buffy laughed again, “Wishes she’d been a child of the sixties, Spike. She was a little too young to get into everything back then, but she more than made up for it when she was old enough. I’ve been raised by a wishes-she-was-a-hippie… it’s a wonder my name isn’t Moonbeam or something, Buffy’s bad enough… and a Brit hooligan… ruffian… whatever. So, believe me when I tell you, us naked together is barely a blip on their radar. As long as we’re safe and respect each other, they’re cool with it.”

Spike looked down at the blanket pooled around his waist. “Was I decent at least? Please tell me that your Mum didn’t get an eyeful of my arse, or, heaven forbid, my todger, ‘cause I don’t think I could face her again if she did, Buffy.”

Buffy tugged on his arm until he was lying on her chest again then started carding her fingers through his hair. “You were covered, Spike. All she saw was your back, which is healing up nicely, by the way. Apparently a little food and sleep is doing wonders. You look ten times better and it’s only been two days.”

Spike wrapped his arm over Buffy’s waist and nuzzled against her breast. “Don’t think it’s the food or the sleep, luv. Think it’s you.” Feeling suddenly emboldened by the realization that he was naked in bed with his girl… and the house was empty… and she’d said that he could touch her… anywhere… Spike snaked his tongue out and licked across Buffy’s nipple. She gasped and her fingers tightened in his hair so he did it again.

She moaned and pushed him closer and he lifted his head then wrapped his lips around her nipple and sucked in sharply. “Oh God, Spike… more… please.”

He rose up on his elbow and looked down at her. Her face was flushed and her eyes sparkled as he asked quietly, surprising himself at the request that fell from his lips. “May I taste you, Buffy?”

Her eyes slipped closed and she moaned, “God yes, Spike. Yes.” He lowered his head and captured her lips in a deep kiss, moaning into her mouth when her hand snaked between them and wrapped around his length, stroking slowly. He trailed kisses down her neck and over her collar bone then took her nipple into his mouth, sucking gently as his hand slid down her belly and his fingers dipped into her cleft. She whispered as his mouth blazed a tingling trail down her stomach, “God, I want you… please.”

She shifted, opening her legs as he settled himself on his stomach between them and gazed at her most private place. He murmured, “Beautiful,” then dipped his head and tentatively licked at her, closing his eyes and moaning as her taste exploded on his tongue. Remembering what she’d liked best from the night before, he mimicked those motions with his tongue instead of his fingers, swirling it around her swollen nub and pressing hard as he twitched it from side to side. The way she’d gasped when he’d sucked in her nipple bounced across his brain, so he tried the same thing with her nubbin and she arched up off the bed with a wail, her hands flying to his hair and latching on tight.

He licked, nibbled, and sucked, changing direction, speed, and pressure based on her responses. He’d always been a quick study and soon had her writhing, panting, and moaning as his tongue slid over her sensitive flesh. He slipped two fingers into her sopping hole, searching for that special spot that he’d learned drove her wild. He found it and stroked it hard, over and over, and she came undone with a scream, her walls clenching around his fingers as she arched up off the bed.

He licked at her throbbing nub gently as she came down, panting harshly and twitching her fingers in his hair. “God, Spike, if I didn’t know better I’d swear you’ve been doing that for a hundred years. You’re amazing… and awesome… and God… I just don’t have the words… I think you melted my brain.”

Spike’s low chuckle sent a shuddery bolt of pleasure through her as he continued to lick and nibble. “I love makin’ you feel good, kitten, and I apologize for the brain melting.”

Buffy rose up onto her elbows with a giggle, “You can melt my brain anytime.” She reached down and gently caressed his face. “I think I’m ready for some enchiladas.”

His eyes widened and he raised his head, her juices glistening on his lips and chin. “What? No… you’re… it’s too soon, isn’t it? I don’t want you to feel pressured, Buffy… and if your brain’s melted… are you sure? I don’t want you to regret…”

Buffy placed her finger over his lips, shushing him. “What you just did? Not the brain melting, but asking if I’m sure? Most guys wouldn’t do that. That’s why I’m sure it’s the right time. They’d hear ‘I want to have sex’ and their brain would shut down and that’d be all she wrote. Especially the way you are right now. You just brought me to a screaming orgasm and I know that you’re hard and ready to go but you’re still more concerned about how I feel… you want to be sure I’m ready. You’re the right one, Spike, the one I want to share this with. I know it’s fast, but there’s this connection… don’t you feel it? I feel like I’ve known you forever. When you kiss me, when I touch you, I feel it all the way down to my toes, like an electric shock. Nobody’s ever made me feel that way. I want this, Spike. I want you… all of you.”

Spike closed his eyes. “But… what if… I do feel it, Buffy… the connection… but what if it’s just because of the circumstances? What if, when things have calmed… you… get tired of me? I’m not exciting, luv, I’m rather dull, actually, and these last few days have been a whirlwind of emotions. Events are happening at a breakneck pace and we’ve been thrown into the middle with hardly any time to get our bearings. What if when we find the time to breathe, you realize that I’m dull as paint and want nothing more to do with me?”

Buffy threaded her fingers into Spike’s hair and tugged gently. “Spike, look at me.” He opened his eyes and Buffy smiled. “I’ve done things with you that I’ve never done with any other guy.” Spike blushed and Buffy giggled, “I didn’t mean sex stuff, although you’re the first guy to ever be where you are now, and God am I happy about that, I meant hanging out, shopping, sleeping next to each other, talking, driving around, sitting by the fire….” She sat up and pulled Spike up to catch his lips in a kiss then pressed their foreheads together. “I want to be with you all the time, just doing whatever. It doesn’t have to be something exciting, I like quiet, I like just being with you. I’ve never wanted that with anyone else. I could go days without even seeing the guy I was dating, even at the start when things are supposed to be all exciting and fresh, and I don’t want to be away from you for even an hour, much less a day. There’s just something…”

Spike whispered, “A spark, I know. I feel it. I feel more… alive… when I’m with you.”

Buffy smiled as a tear dripped down her cheek. “Yes, that’s exactly it. I don’t know why, or how, and I don’t care. I just want you… to be with you. I read somewhere once that when you’ve found the right person… the one you’re meant to be with… you look at them and you just know. I just know, Spike. You’re the one. I love you.”


	19. Appointment

Bruises  
Chapter 19 – Appointment

Spike gaped at her, his eyes wide as tears spilled from hers. “Please say something, Spike. I just told you that I love you.” When he continued to gape, seemingly frozen in place, she closed her eyes and whispered. “It’s too soon, I know, but I had to tell you. I understand that you don’t feel the same. You’ve been through so much and I’m sure you really don’t need this right now. Just pretend I didn’t say it. We’ll go back to before… just please don’t leave.”

The word ‘leave’ snapped Spike out of his daze and his hands flew to Buffy’s upper arms. He pulled her to him in a desperate kiss then wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his lap. He mumbled against her hair as he clutched her tight. “Leave? Have you gone completely carrot top? God, Buffy, I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you. I saw you and I knew, just like you said. I knew you were the one, I just never thought… bloody hell… you love me… you **love** me.”

Buffy threw her arms around him with a happy cry. “Yes, I love you.” 

He laid her gently back on the pillow as he rained kisses down on her tear-stained face. He nipped at her ear then nibbled on her neck as his hands caressed her breasts. His mouth was closing over an erect nipple when door bell chimes rang out through the house. Buffy started to sit up and Spike sucked hard then mumbled against her breast. “Leave it. They’ll bugger off.”

He moved across to her other breast and was circling the nipple with his tongue when they heard a faint knocking then a muffled voice calling out, “Mr. Pratt?”

Spike and Buffy both groaned then Spike rose up on his knees, his hands clenched into fists. “Bugger. What kind of bloody git has the knackers to just barge into someone’s home?”

Buffy climbed reluctantly off the bed and slipped into her robe, belting it tightly. “I’ll go find out.”

Spike looked down at himself with a wry grin, “That might be best, luv. Can’t really receive visitors lookin’ like this, now can I?” Buffy stepped up next to the bed and leaned over to wrap her hand around the hard and weeping cock that jutted out proudly in front of him. She stroked slowly as she kissed him deeply then let him go, making him groan again. “Don’t think a cold shower’s gonna cut it this time, pet. ‘M too close.”

Buffy smirked, “Well, you ‘handle’ that and I’ll run interference on the guy downstairs. If he’s looking for you here, he’s probably a cop or from Social Services or something. I’ll try to get rid of him, but if I can’t, I’ll keep him busy until you’re… um… done.”

Spike nodded and wrapped his left hand around his shaft, sliding it slowly from the base to the head then hissing in pleasure as he flicked his thumb over the tip. Buffy bit her bottom lip as she backed slowly toward the door, her eyes glued to the beautiful form kneeling on the bed, back arched and the cords in his neck standing out as he pumped into his fist. “God… that is sooo hot.” She backed out of the room, pulling the door firmly shut, then turned and leaned against it for a few seconds, trying to get her breathing under control. She scrubbed the sleeve of her robe over her face then turned toward the stairs and moved quickly down them, almost colliding with a man holding a briefcase as he stepped out of the dining room. 

He reached out and grasped her arm with his free hand, steadying her. “So sorry, Miss. Please excuse me.”

Buffy backed up a step and took a few minutes to look him over. Tall, dark brown hair cut short, glasses, tweed suit, English accent… another Giles. _‘God, is California being invaded by the British?’_ She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Who exactly are you and what are you doing in my house? Seriously… break and enter much?” 

He stepped back, slightly flustered, and dipped into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a business card and holding it out to her. She snatched it from his fingers then held it up and read it aloud. “Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. Licensed Clinical Social Worker. Santa Barbara County Department of Social Services.” She looked up at Wesley. “Very impressive. So do you have to know breaking and entering to get this job or is it offered as an ongoing education type thing?”

Wesley spluttered, “I assure you I did no such thing! I spoke to Mrs. Giles by telephone this morning and she informed me that if a small red car was in the drive, yet no one answered the bell, that I was to enter and make my presence known.” He held out his hand. “You are Miss Summers, I presume? It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Buffy shook his hand then motioned toward the living room. “Likewise. Want to sit down?”

Wesley nodded and followed Buffy into the living room. She curled up on the end of the sofa then pulled her feet up and tugged the robe over them while Wesley perched uneasily on the edge of a wing-back chair in the corner, setting his briefcase on the floor beside it. “I am here to inquire after Mr. Pratt. Is he available?”

Buffy shrugged and fervently hoped that she wasn’t blushing because of the image of Spike kneeling on the bed that was still circling her brain. “Still sleeping, I think. What do you need him for?”

Wesley looked worried. “Is he ill? It is rather late to still be abed, I should think.” He looked at his watch and Buffy glanced at the clock on the mantle. 

She snorted, “It’s just after nine. And no, he’s not **ill** , he was beaten to a pulp by his idiot father so he needs some rest. That okay with you?”

Wesley looked her over, frowning as he took in the robe and her messy hair. “Shouldn’t you be in school at this hour, Miss Summers?”

Buffy smirked. “Normally yeah, but I’m off until next week so I can stay with Spike. He’s off because of his injuries. And before you ask, yes, we both have permission from the school Principal… you know… my **father**?”

Wesley continued to frown. “Spike?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Spike. He won’t answer to William, so don’t try it. Wasn’t that in his file? Did you even read his file?”

Wesley shook his head. “Not entirely, no. I was presented with his case early this morning and only had a cursory briefing from the social worker that met with your parents yesterday. Am I correct in assuming that you’re aware of the details of Mr. Pratt’s situation?”

Buffy sat forward just a bit, suddenly concerned that something had happened and they were going to send Spike somewhere else. “Yeah, Spike’s told me pretty much everything. Why did you get his case? Is something wrong? Are you going to send him away?”

“Oh no, Miss Summers, everything is quite all right as far as Mr. Pratt is concerned. The worker originally assigned to his case had a family emergency and had to leave town for an undetermined length of time. I had a few free hours this morning, so I thought it prudent to meet my new charge and introduce myself. That’s all.”

Buffy relaxed and smiled at Wesley for the first time. “So… you’re just here to meet him? That’s it?”

Wesley nodded, “Yes.”

Spike stepped off the stairs and sauntered into the living room, tipping Buffy a wink as he walked up to Wesley’s chair and held out his hand. “Spike Pratt. And you are?”

Wesley clasped his hand firmly and shook it. “Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Department of Social Services. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Pratt.”

Buffy watched Spike’s back, licking her lips at the way the soft cotton t-shirt clung to his well-defined muscles. Her eyes traveled down to the tight jeans encasing his perfect ass and muscular thighs and her eyelids fell to half mast. Then he turned around and those glorious abs and bulgy package were right at eye level. Her eyes drifted slowly northward and she gasped slightly when they met his twinkling blue orbs. He grinned at her as he stepped across the living room and dropped down onto the couch next to her, throwing his arm over her shoulders and tugging her close. “Call me Spike. So, Mr. Pryce, we’ve been introduced. Is there anything else?”

Wesley watched as Buffy’s hand moved to Spike’s thigh, rather high up he thought, and he cleared his throat. “Not specifically, no. I haven’t gone over your file as thoroughly as I would have liked, so I’m not fully abreast of your situation, but I understand that your father was abusive and has been detained by the authorities. My first concerns, of course, are your physical and mental states.” He picked up his briefcase and snapped it open, pulling out a file folder that he opened and laid across the briefcase. He quickly scanned the top page then flipped through a few pages. “Now, about your injuries, Mr. Pratt… excuse me… Spike… you seem to be faring quite well.” His finger trailed down the page he was looking at then stopped and tapped on the paper. “It says here that you were examined at hospital last evening and were given a prescription for painkillers.” He looked up at Spike. “Have you had need of them?”

Spike shook his head then nodded at the pharmacy bag still sitting on the table by the door. “Not so far. I’m healin’ up quite nicely, faster than I thought I would, and I’m quite used to bein’ in pain, so I’ve not really noticed it.” Spike smiled at Buffy then looked over at Wesley. “Think part of it’s the fact that I haven’t been beaten on for two days and I’ve been allowed proper sleep and food… but mostly, I think it’s Buffy.” Buffy beamed a smile at him and snuggled closer.

Wesley smiled tightly as he scratched a quick note down in Spike’s file. “Yes, quite. All right then, how are you doing emotionally? If you need to talk to someone, I could set you up with a counselor, we have several excellent choices.”

Spike shook his head again, “Thank you, but I’m fine. I don’t know if it’s in my file, but I’ve been assigned a psychiatrist, Miss Maclay, over at hospital. Also, Mr. Gunn gave me his card and told me to call anytime, and I’ve got Buffy… I’m covered.”

Wesley smiled, “Ah yes, Mr. Gunn. He’s one of our best, and Miss Maclay is one of our top counselors. I was going to recommend her.”

Buffy looked at Wesley. “Couldn’t Charlie take Spike’s case? Since they kind of already know each other?”

Wesley shook his head. “Mr. Gunn handles our emergency placements due to his background and… uh… experiences… and as such, usually doesn’t take on permanent placements.” Wesley’s face turned thoughtful and he reached up to tap on his chin. “I suppose I could make an exception in your case, if you’d like. If you would feel more comfortable with Mr. Gunn, I’m sure he could squeeze you in.”

Spike shook his head. “That’s all right, Mr. Pryce, I’ll stick with you. You seem a good sort and I’m sure I’ll be one of your easiest cases. And considerin’ that I’ll be eighteen in a few months, you won’t be saddled with me for very long.”

Wesley frowned. “You are not a burden, Spike. I’m available to assist you in any way that I can.”

Spike smiled. “I meant no offense, Mr. Pryce. I’m sure you’re quite good at your job, I’m just sayin’ that I don’t feel I have need of your services.”

Buffy nodded and squeezed Spike’s leg. “He’s been really strong through all this, and he knows that he can tell me anything, so I don’t think you’re going to have much to worry about.” She looked at Spike with a serious gaze as she continued, “But if it starts being too much for us to handle, I promise I’ll call, all right?”

Wesley nodded, “I’ll hold you to that, Miss Summers.” He also looked seriously at Spike. “We have numerous resources at our disposal, so please don’t feel that you have to go this alone.”

Spike smiled weakly as he swallowed a lump in his throat. “Thank you, Mr. Pryce. I promise that I’ll get help if I need it, or if Buffy thinks I need it.”

Wesley smiled slightly as he closed the folder and tucked it back into his briefcase. He snapped the lid shut and stood up. “Good to hear, Spike. I’ll just be going now, but I will be checking in on you periodically, keeping up with your school marks, attendance, and behavior.” He stepped toward the couch with his hand extended. “Should you need anything in the meantime, Miss Summers has my card.”

Spike stood and shook Wesley’s hand again then showed him to the door. “Thanks for stoppin’ by, Mr. Pryce.” He leaned close and smirked, “And you needn’t worry ‘bout my behavior. Buffy has me well in hand, I assure you, and then there’s her Mum. A bloke doesn’t stand a chance at causin’ mischief in this house.”

Wesley chuckled, “That’s good to know, Spike. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

Spike shut the door behind Wesley and turned back to the living room only to find Buffy gone. He peeked into the dining room then started up the stairs. “Buffy? Pet?”

She called out from her bedroom, “In here, Spike.” He stepped into her room and saw her with her phone up to her ear as she dug in her closet. “Okay, Mom, thanks for calling. I’ll bring him by later and let you see. Love you. Bye.” She tossed the phone onto her bed then started digging through her clothes in earnest. 

Spike stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “What’s all this then?”

Buffy turned around and leaned up to kiss him lightly. “My Mom managed to get you an appointment, so we’ve got to get moving if we want to stop by to visit your Mom first.”

Spike’s eyebrow rose. “Appointment for what, pet?”


	20. Spike Armor

Bruises  
Chapter 20 – Spike Armor

Buffy was behind the wheel of her little car as she glanced at Spike out of the corner of her eye. “You’re sure that you’re not mad?”

Spike smiled reassuringly over at her as he squeezed her leg. “Told you four times already that I’m not, kitten.”

Buffy tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “Not even a little bit? I’d understand if you were. I mean, you were so amazing to me, with the tongue, and the fingers, and everything… and it felt so good, but then I just left you to take care of yourself… and you looked totally hot, by the way… and then I rushed you out of the house right after I told you we could have enchiladas…” She glanced at him shyly. “You’re not disappointed?”

Spike chuckled, “As you’ve mentioned, I’m a teenage boy, so I’ve ‘taken care’ of myself on numerous occasions, nothin’ new on that front, and no, I’m not disappointed. I’ve waited this long, what’s another hour or day or week? I’ll wait… long as I have to… you’re worth it, kitten. ‘Sides, I love just bein’ with you, I’m not here just for the shaggin’, luv, although what we’ve done so far has been absolutely incredible.”

Buffy smiled tentatively and laid her hand over Spike’s. “You really are an amazing guy, Spike.”

Spike lifted her hand and lightly kissed her knuckles. “And you’re an amazin’ woman, pet.” He lifted his head and smirked at her. “Now… ‘bout this appointment. Gonna tell me what it’s for?”

Buffy grinned. “Well… it’s at a hair salon.”

Spike ran his fingers through his long, messy curls. “Could do with a bit of a trim, I suppose, but a salon? ‘M a bloke, luv. Salons are for birds.”

Buffy giggled, “Maybe, but Mom got you an appointment with the guy that does our hair. He’s really popular, you usually have to book with him like two months in advance, but he likes me so he said he’d push a few appointments because it’s an emergency.”

Spike’s eyebrow was quirked again. “Emergency? My hair’s not that bad, is it?”

Buffy shook her head as she pulled into the hospital parking lot. “It’s not bad, but it is too long. It covers your face, Spike, and that’s just of the bad. You’re too good-looking to be hiding behind your hair. And I only had Mom tell him it was an emergency so we could hopefully get you in today. He doesn’t work weekends and we’re going back to school on Monday. Figured you’d want to be ready.”

Spike shrugged as he got out of the car. “All right, luv. Still not too sure ‘bout the salon aspect, but if you trust the bloke then I trust you.”

They walked into the hospital hand in hand and made their way toward Anne’s room. A nurse stopped them in the hallway outside her door. “Spike? The doctor would like to speak with you before you see your mother. Please follow me.”

Spike glanced nervously at Buffy then followed the nurse down the hallway to a small room containing only a table and three chairs. The nurse asked them to sit and told them that the doctor would be with them momentarily. Spike ran his hands through his hair again and took several deep breaths. “Bollocks. Something’s happened… and it’s bad. It has to be.”

Buffy laid her hand lightly on his arm. “Well, the nurse said you could still see her, so maybe he just wants to talk to you about the poison or whatever. If something really bad had happened, they would’ve called you.”

Spike squeezed his eyes shut. “You’re probably right… what the bloody hell is taking him so long?”

The door opened and a short, portly man with a pair of round spectacles perched on his bulbous nose blustered into the room. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Pratt.” He reached out and shook Spike’s hand quickly then sat down on the edge of the third chair and clasped his hands together on the table. “Before I start, I just want to let you know that your mother is fine.”

Spike let out the breath that he wasn’t aware he’d been holding and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Then what’s with the meetin’, doc?”

“Late last night, after you left, Anne started experiencing symptoms similar to someone undergoing drug withdrawal. I won’t list them for you at this time, but suffice it to say, it was unpleasant, so we’ve put her into a state of sedated detox, the same as we would for someone coming off methamphetamine. She is currently stable and her vital signs are good. We’ll keep her sedated for a few more days, then bring her out of it and see how she is. If she continues to experience symptoms, we’ll put her under again.”

Spike clasped Buffy’s hand tightly under the table. “But she’s gonna be all right, isn’t she? This detox or whatever isn’t making her worse, is it?”

The doctor shook his head. “We expect her to make a full recovery, Mr. Pratt. There really is no treatment or antidote for the type of poison that was used, so we can only treat her symptoms and try to keep her comfortable as her body works to expel the poison. We’re keeping her hydrated and nourished intravenously and the physical therapist has been in to work her muscles so they don’t atrophy from lack of use. We’re taking very good care of her; you can be assured of that.”

Spike smiled in relief and reached across the table to shake the doctor’s hand. “I’m sure you are, sir, I meant no offense, just a bit spun by all of this. Yesterday I was preparin’ for her to die at any time and I’m still tryin’ to wrap my head ‘round the fact that she’s going to recover. She can still have visitors, yeah?”

The doctor nodded emphatically, “Of course. In fact, we encourage it. Medical science is not entirely sure how much of their surroundings a patient in your mother’s condition is aware of, but having loved ones visit surely can’t hurt.” The doctor got to his feet and motioned toward the door. “I’ll show you to her new room. We’ve moved her due to the increased level of care. Please follow me.”

Spike and Buffy followed the doctor down the hallway past Anne’s old room. They entered a new wing and were shown to a room within spitting distance of the nurse’s station. The doctor knocked then pushed open the door and walked quickly into the room. Anne was ensconced in a larger bed, surrounded by beeping and whooshing equipment. She’d been intubated and her chest was rising and falling in time with a large whooshing machine sitting next to her bed. There were numerous tubes in her arms attached to several IV bags hanging from stands attached to the bed frame. She had small silver pads stuck to her in several places, the wire leads attached to one of the beeping machines. Spike stopped just inside the door and stared over at her as he whispered, “She looks so small.”

Buffy stopped next to him and squeezed his hand. “It’s ok, Spike. Come sit with her, talk to her.” Buffy looked over and noticed that Anne’s right hand didn’t have anything currently attached to it. “Look. You can hold her hand, come on.” She stepped forward and tugged Spike’s hand. 

He followed her hesitantly and stopped next to the bed then looked up at the doctor. “Can I touch her?”

The doctor nodded. “Of course, just be careful of the wires and whatnot. I’ll leave you alone.” He laid his hand on Spike’s shoulder. “I know it looks bad, but she’ll be fine, Mr. Pratt.”

Spike mumbled, “Thank you, Doctor,” then sat carefully on the edge of the bed and slid his hand under Anne’s. Buffy took a seat in the chair in the corner as Spike rubbed his thumb over the back of Anne’s hand. “Hello, Mum. Got a posh new room, I see.” He closed his eyes and swallowed hard then opened them and squeezed her hand slightly. “Guess what, Mum? Buffy’s takin’ me to a hair salon today… I know… I’m a bloke.” He chuckled, “Hopefully I’ll come out of there still lookin’ like one.” 

Buffy got up and walked over behind Spike then leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss. “I’m gonna go out in the hall and text Wils, Oz, and Xan, make sure they’re all on board for the Bronze after school. Be back in a few minutes.” Spike nodded and turned back to Anne as Buffy walked out of the room. 

Just before she pulled the door closed behind her, she heard Spike whisper to Anne. “Buffy loves me, Mum.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Spike looked warily at the bright, garish facade of the salon. “You’re sure about this?”

Buffy giggled and tugged him through the door. “Yes, I’m sure, now come on.” She pulled him up to the front desk. “Hi, I’m Buffy Summers. I have an appointment.”

A loud, excited voice called out, “Buffy-kins!” then a tall man dressed in a lime green suit enveloped Buffy in a crushing hug. He pushed her back and held her at arm’s length, studying her hair. He turned her this way and that then frowned. “Your hair looks fabulous, Buffy. What’s the dire emergency that my Joycie was all atwitter about?”

Buffy giggled and reached back to grasp Spike’s hand then pulled him forward to stand next to her. “Lorne, I’m going to say a word that’s going to make your whole day…” She turned and pulled Spike to stand in front of her then stood up on her tiptoes and peeked over his shoulder at Lorne. “Makeover.”

Spike flinched when Lorne darted forward, grasping him by the shoulders and turning him just like he had Buffy. When he was facing forward again, Lorne backed up and lifted a hand thoughtfully to his chin as he looked Spike up and down. “Hmmm… black… leather… LOVE it…” He reached out and tugged lightly at the red button down that Spike was wearing over his black Ramones t-shirt. “Hint of color.” He looked at Buffy. “Punk?” Buffy nodded and dug in her pocket then held out the kohl pencil and nail polish on her outstretched palm. Lorne looked from them to Spike’s face then lifted his hand and brushed Spike’s hair back. “Oh… Crumb Cake, you have the most gorgeous eyes… and those cheekbones! Oh yes, we’re gonna have some fun.” He turned and clapped his hands loudly then started calling out orders as he strode purposefully through the salon.

Spike turned and quirked his eyebrow at Buffy. “Crumb Cake? Really?”

Buffy giggled and slipped Spike’s duster and red shirt down over his arms then hung them on the coat hook by the door. Several of the women sitting in the waiting room looked Spike over appreciatively and Buffy grasped his hand possessively as she tugged him in the direction Lorne had gone. “He’s really good, Crumb Cake. You’ll see.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Spike was sitting pensively in the chair, his head swaddled in plastic wrap as the bleach did its job. Buffy was perched on a low stool next to him as she smoothed polish over his fingernails. “Blond, pet?”

Buffy looked up at him with a smile. “If you were worried, you should have said something earlier, Spike. I mean, it’s a little late now; the bleach is already on your head. I suppose we could wash it out, but then your hair would be this weird orange color.”

Spike shook his head, the plastic wrap making an annoying crinkling sound in his ears. “It’s just different, luv. How blond is it going to be? About your shade?”

Buffy shook her head as she started applying polish to his thumbnail. “Nope. Think Billy Idol. It’ll go great with your cheekbones and it’ll make your eyes pop.”

Spike chuckled, “Not sure I like the bit ‘bout my eyes poppin’, luv. Like bein’ able to see you.”

Buffy smacked his leg lightly. “Not like that, dork. It’ll make them stand out… a lot. Your hottie quotient is gonna be sky high when we’re done with you.”

Spike mumbled, “If you say so.”

Buffy looked up at him with concern. “What’s wrong?”

He shrugged. “Just not sure ‘bout all of this… the clothes… the makeover. I know we said a fresh start and everythin’, but…”

Buffy reached across his lap and grasped his other hand, the one with the dry polish. “You’re still you, Spike, just with blond hair.”

Spike sighed loudly, “That’s the problem, Buffy. Who exactly am I? Am I William? Am I Spike? I made Spike to deal with what my Da was doin’ to me. He’s stronger, braver… William’s a weak, pathetic sop… which one am I now?”

Buffy thought about that for a minute then squeezed his hand. “Okay, first… William isn’t weak or pathetic. William is sweet and a gentle soul… and also strong and brave. You talk like Spike is a separate person from William, but he’s not. Spike is William’s strength and bravery wearing a leather duster. You separated them because you had to… you were trying to survive… so you sheltered William and let Spike take over, but you can be both. You can let William out and still be Spike... you already do.”

“I do?”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah. Sometimes you talk like Giles… all silky smooth with the huge words and the proper English… that’s William. Other times, you’re all ‘Oi’ and ‘bloody hell’ and you drop the ‘g’ from the ends of your words… you’re accent is rougher… that’s Spike. Sometimes you even do both in the same sentence. They’re both part of you. When you’re sweet and gentlemanly and considerate… that’s William. When you’re slamming Angel into a display and threatening to beat his ass… that’s Spike.”

Spike nodded slowly, “So… I’m Spilliam?”

Buffy burst out laughing, “I guess you could say that, you big goofball. All I’m saying is that you can be sweet **and** brave… gentlemanly **and** strong… but I’m not calling you Spilliam.”

Spike laughed along with her, “No, please don’t. I prefer to be called Spike… so the blond…”

“Is you combining your William side and your Spike side into one. You with long, brown, curly hair wearing the duster over your t-shirt and jeans is just William putting on Spike armor to try to protect himself from his idiot father. You with blond hair wearing the duster over your t-shirt and jeans is you letting your William out while still being protected by your Spike. It’s not a huge change… but it’s enough to see the difference. You understand what I’m trying to say?”

Spike smirked, “You’re quite insightful, kitten, and yes… I understand.”

Buffy grinned, “Good… ‘cause I wasn’t sure that I was making any sense.”

Spike twisted his hand in Buffy’s grip so he could rub his thumb over her knuckles. “Thank you, pet.”

She stood up and leaned over the chair, planting a light kiss on his lips. “You’re welcome… Spilliam.”

“Oi!”


	21. Pillow Fight

Bruises  
Chapter 21 – Pillow Fight

Lorne finished applying gel to Spike’s platinum blond hair then teased it into short spikes all over the top of his head. He stepped back and looked over his handiwork from every possible angle then announced loudly, “And we’re finished! You look absolutely gorgeous, pumpkin!”

Buffy tapped him on the arm and held up the kohl pencil. “Should I do this or do you want to?”

Lorne snapped up the pencil and leaned close to Spike who looked back at him warily. “Just hold still, buttercup, don’t want to damage those baby blues.” Spike looked distinctly uncomfortable as Lorne expertly applied the kohl around his eyes then smudged it just so with his fingertip, but he held still, his hands tight on the arms of the chair in a white knuckle grip. Lorne explained the process to Buffy as he applied and smudged, then he backed up wearing a satisfied grin. “All the girls – and probably quite a few of the guys – are going to be melting for you, sweet cheeks.” He snapped his fingers at one of his hovering assistants and instructed her to bring Spike’s duster and shirt so he could see ‘the full effect.’

In a few short minutes, Spike was standing nervously in front of the wall of floor to ceiling mirrors in the lobby, apprehensively looking over his reflection. Buffy was standing next to him wearing a slack-jawed expression and Spike turned to her, his fingers twitching nervously at the buttons of his red shirt. “So? What do you think, luv?”

Buffy looked him over from head to toe then swallowed heavily. “God, Spike… you’re chocolate covered sex on a stick. Seriously. I’m gonna have to put a ‘Property of Buffy’ sticker on your forehead to keep all the girls at school off you… and even that probably won’t stop them.”

Spike smiled shyly and ducked his head. “Don’t think you’ll have to worry much, pet. Doubt most of ‘em will even notice me.”

Lorne chuckled from behind him, “You might have to reevaluate that position, sugar. Look to your left.”

Spike and Buffy both looked at the front of the salon and gasped at the same time. The women in the waiting room were peeking over the tops of their magazines, their eyes trained on Spike’s reflection, and a handful of women were standing on the sidewalk outside staring in the window. Buffy noticed Spike’s shoulders slump just a bit as he turned away slightly, his face heating in a blush. She grasped his hand and leaned up to whisper in his ear, “Don’t be embarrassed, Spike. You’re hot. Really hot. And I’m not the only one who thinks so.” She stood up straight and squared her shoulders, tossing her hair back as she lifted her chin. “I’m proud to be your girlfriend… are you…”

Spike took the hint and straightened his spine then squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest just a bit. He turned around, lifted his head, and looked coolly over the assembled females before tipping them a wink. “Proud to be yours, Buffy. Bloody proud.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

They exited the salon, Spike holding his head high with Buffy’s hand clasped tightly in his own as they weaved through the crowd of women still gaping at him. “Where to now, luv? Any more appointments I should know about?”

Buffy shook her head as she pulled him along the sidewalk. “Nope, but that bookstore I promised to show you is just down the street.”

Spike’s eyes lit up as they stepped into the building and he took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of old books that permeated every square inch of the rather large store. The older woman sitting behind the counter nodded at them as Spike gravitated toward the shelves in the back that seemed to hold the oldest books. Buffy let go of his hand then stood watching him as he slowly moved through the stacks, pulling out a book every once in a while to flip through it before setting it gently back on the shelf. 

After half an hour of picking books up and putting them back, Buffy moved over to stand next to Spike. “See anything you want?”

Spike startled and almost dropped the book he was holding as he looked at her with a shy smile. “Several, luv, but…”

Buffy smiled and whipped out her credit card then held it up, waving it slightly. “Well get them, Spike.”

Spike looked at the book he was holding then back up at Buffy. “You sure? You’ve already spent…”

Buffy grinned and took the book from his hands. “You want this one?” At Spike’s nod, she tucked it under her arm and nodded toward the shelves. “How many more did you want?”

He looked at the shelves then shrugged and hit her with that shy smile again. “Eight… nine, maybe… but I don’t need to get them all, pet. A couple of them are quite expensive.”

Buffy nodded toward the shelves again. “How expensive?”

Spike moved to another shelf and pulled out a heavy, leather-bound book then opened the front cover. “This one’s almost ninety dollars, pet. It’s the most expensive, but the rest aren’t much less.”

Buffy smiled and took the book from his hands then started toward the counter. “Don’t worry about it, Spike. Go ahead and get the ones you wanted.” She turned and winked at him with a small giggle, “I’ve still got a lot of room on this card, so we might as well use it.”

Spike nodded and moved down the shelf, picking up another large volume. “If you’re sure, luv.”

Buffy turned and walked backwards, clutching the two books to her chest. “I’m sure, Spike. Get the books you want and then we’ll go next door.”

Spike grinned like a kid who’s just discovered the pile of presents under the tree on Christmas morning then moved quickly through the stacks, picking out seven more books. He juggled his load as he moved through the store toward the front where Buffy was chatting amicably with the woman behind the counter. She smiled up at him as he gently set the books on the counter. “Did you find all the ones you wanted?”

Spike nodded as the clerk took the top book from the stack and opened the cover. She wrote down the amount on a small slip of paper then set the book aside and picked up the next one in the stack. “You have excellent taste in literature, young man.” Spike blushed slightly as she continued. “As a matter of fact, you’re the youngest person that’s ever been in those stacks. Usually people your age stick to the front of the store where the bestsellers and such are located.”

Spike’s blush deepened a few shades as he mumbled, “These are some of my favorites, ma’am.”

The woman set down the book she was holding and held out her hand. “I’m Millicent Graveside, owner and proprietor.”

Spike gently took her hand and bent to place a kiss on the back of it. “William Pratt, ma’am. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He nodded toward Buffy. “And this lovely lady is Miss Buffy Summers.”

Buffy smiled as she shook Millicent’s hand. “Isn’t he just the cutest thing?”

Millicent laughed and leaned over the counter to whisper to Buffy. “He is, but I fear we are embarrassing him terribly.” They both looked over at Spike, his face the color of a ripe tomato as he took a sudden interest in his boots. “Please call me Milly.” Spike nodded shyly and Milly picked up the next book in the stack.

Buffy stood and watched for a few minutes then moved to an overstuffed chair in the ‘reading pit’ in the center of the store and sat down. Milly had managed to pull Spike into a somewhat stilted at first conversation about the books he was purchasing, but as Spike overcame his shyness and warmed to the topic, it soon blossomed into a full-blown discussion about literature in general. A lot of what they were talking about went right over Buffy’s head, but she was content to sit and listen… and watch her boyfriend. Spike was animated and engaged, motioning with his hands to make his points and once even rapping his knuckles smartly on the counter-top as he vigorously disagreed with something Milly had said.

Buffy smiled as she idly picked up a book from a nearby table and started reading. She was only about twenty pages in when Spike and Milly shook hands then Spike turned to Buffy. “Did you hear that, pet?”

Buffy shook her head and stood up; setting the book down before she moved to stand next to Spike. “Sorry. I was reading while you guys talked.”

Spike’s face split into a wide grin as he snagged Buffy’s hand. “Milly’s offered me a job, kitten. I’m to work a few hours on Saturdays and Sundays while school’s still in, then go full-time over the summer.”

Buffy smiled proudly at Spike and squeezed his hand. “That’s perfect! This place is so you, Spike.” She looked at a smiling Milly. “Did you guys talk about pay and taxes and everything?”

Spike blushed slightly. “No… not as such. I’m just happy to have work, luv. Need a way to support myself. Can’t keep moochin’ off you and with Mum in hospital… and Da… I don’t know what’s gonna happen with the business…”

Milly reached under the counter and pulled a manila folder out of a file drawer. “Here’s my standard employment contract. Let me just fill in a few things.” She skimmed over the paper, leaving things blank that Spike would have to fill in, then scratched down some numbers toward the bottom of the contract before she signed in the appropriate space with a flourish. She slid the paper across the counter and held out her pen to Spike. “Just fill in your particulars and sign the bottom and you’ll officially be an employee of Graveside Books.”

“But I’m not of legal age to sign a contract for a few more months, Milly.”

Milly smiled and pointed to a third signature space on the bottom of the paper. “Your parent or legal guardian will sign here if they agree to the terms of the contract.”

Spike nodded then quickly wrote down his name and other identifying information before he skimmed over the body of the contract, his eyes widening in shock as he read the numbers Milly had written down. “That much, Milly? Surely you can’t be serious!”

Milly smiled warmly at Spike then winked at Buffy. “I’m completely serious, William. Once you’ve been trained, you’ll be running the store as my manager and as such, you’ll receive a manager’s compensation.”

Spike’s open-mouthed fish impression made Buffy and Milly burst out laughing. Buffy waved her hand in front of Spike’s shocked face then turned to Milly with a giggle. “I think you broke him.”

Spike shook himself and straightened up; squaring his shoulders as he quickly signed at the bottom. “Not broken ladies, just… well… gob smacked would probably be the most appropriate term.” He folded the paper and slipped it into a pocket of his duster then reached across the counter and caught Milly’s hand in a tight grip. “Thank you for giving me this opportunity. You won’t be sorry. I’ll make you proud, Milly, I swear it.”

Milly squeezed his hand and nodded. “Of course you will, William. Of that I have no doubt.” She quickly slipped the books Spike had selected into a large cloth bag and slid them across the counter. “Feel free to keep these as long as you like. I know you’ll be careful with them, and should you wish to purchase them, as an official employee, you’ll receive the employee discount.”

Spike’s fish impression was back on display as Buffy grasped the handles of the bag and started to lift. “Hey, fish-boy, little help here? These are kinda heavy.”

Spike shook himself back to full awareness and took the bag as he mumbled an apology. “Sorry, pet.” 

Buffy leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to his heated cheek. “No big, Spike.”

Spike followed Buffy out of the store, turning just before he stepped into the sunlight to wave at Milly. “See you next Saturday, Milly, and thanks again.”

After Spike had secured the books in the back of Buffy’s car, she dragged him to the store next to his new place of employment and they stepped through the door accompanied by the jingling of several bells. The man behind the long glassed-in display of sparkling rings, earrings, and necklaces looked them over, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as they moved toward him. Buffy stopped in front of him and met his gaze. “Hi, we need a necklace and a few rings and maybe a bracelet.” She motioned toward Spike. “Silver maybe, something heavy and chunky. Do you have that?”

The man looked Spike over again, his gaze appraising this time instead of suspicious, then he nodded. “Yes. I think we have just what the gentleman requires. Please step this way.”

After much trying on of different rings and bracelets, and a lot of Spike whispering to Buffy that this was far too expensive, and her whispering back that no, it wasn’t, they finally left the store with one small bag. The bag held the boxes and velvet bags that had contained the jewelry that now adorned Spike. He had a thick linked silver chain around his neck with a matching bracelet around his right wrist and a chunky ring on his right thumb. There was also another bracelet around his left wrist with a slightly thinner ring on his index finger.

Buffy smiled as the sunlight glinted off Spike’s jewelry and leaned up to give him a kiss. “One more stop, then we hit the Bronze.”

He wrapped his arms around her and smiled. “Think your Mum will like the new me?”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

The Bronze was packed when they arrived shortly after four. Buffy paid the cover charge and they entered the club, Buffy clinging to Spike’s hand as he tried to break trail through the throng of teenagers. Oz’s band, Dingoes Ate My Baby, was playing that night, and it seemed that every teenager in Sunnydale was crammed into the club, all talking and laughing as they listened to the DJ. The music was loud and obnoxious as Spike led Buffy over to the slightly less loud hallway that led to the bathrooms and stopped, leaning back on the wall. Buffy leaned against him and spoke into his ear, “What’s wrong? You look nervous.”

Spike nodded, “Am a little.”

“About what?”

“Meetin’ your mates.”

Buffy leaned back and looked at Spike then leaned up again. “You’ve met them before, Spike.”

Spike shrugged. “Yeah, but that was when I was just that loser that kept gettin’ pounded on. I was nobody, really, and I’ve never even really spoken to any of ‘em ‘cept Oz… and he doesn’t really speak. Now I’m your boyfriend. What if they don’t like me? What if they tell you that you’re makin’ a mistake bein’ with me?”

Buffy wrapped her arms around him and gently kissed his neck just above the chain. “They won’t tell me that you’re a mistake. We’ve been friends since I moved here, and if they can put up with the whole Angel situation without telling me that **he** was a mistake, then they’re going to love you… just like I do.”

Spike wrapped Buffy up tight and captured her lips in a heated kiss. “Love you, too, pet.” He took a deep breath and looked down the hallway at the milling crowd. “You’re sure, luv?”

Buffy nodded and leaned close, her lips just brushing his ear. “I’m sure. You’re an awesome guy, Spike. They’d be stupid not to like you and none of them are stupid, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Spike smiled and took Buffy’s hand then led her back down the hallway. The DJ announced that he was closing up shop as they started threading their way through the crowd, searching for Angel. Spike was getting a lot of interested looks from a lot of the teenagers, male and female, and Buffy was grinning as she overheard more than a few of them ask each other who the new hot guy was. They finally spied Angel at a table in the back corner near the pool tables, sitting anxiously as he held tight to a warm glass of Pepsi. He looked up as they stepped up next to the table and smiled as his eyes landed on Buffy. His smile faltered and his eyes went wide as they landed on the guy standing next to her. “Spike?”

Spike grinned and took the chair next to Angel, pulling Buffy down onto his lap. “Yeah.”

“What happened to you?”

Spike smirked. “My encounter with you yesterday scared the shit right out of me. What do you think happened, you ponce? Buffy dragged me to a salon this mornin’ and got me a ‘makeover.’ You’re lookin’ at Spike 2.0, the new and improved version.”

Angel laughed loudly then clapped Spike on the back. “Well, if you were going for the whole blending into the background look, you’ve completely blown that out of the water. I’m pretty sure that your hair can be seen from space.”

Spike shot him the two finger salute then peeked over Buffy’s shoulder as the crowd parted and Xander stumbled through towing Willow behind him. “Buffy! Holy crap, this place is packed!” He dropped down into the chair across from Buffy and looked warily over at Angel, slightly confused by his presence being that Buffy had broken up with him, but because he wasn’t currently draped over her in his usual impersonation of a spiky-haired blanket, Xander shrugged and muttered, “O’Connor.”

“Harris.”

Willow perched nervously on the chair furthest from Angel and looked up shyly through her hair at Buffy. “Hi, Buffy.” Her eyes widened as Spike peeked out from behind Buffy and she elbowed Xander. “Xan!”

Xander looked where she was pointing then peered closely at the guy Buffy was apparently sitting on. There was something… Realization hit and Xander’s mouth dropped open in shock as he sputtered, “Spike?”

Buffy giggled and got to her feet. “Might as well stand up and show off your new look.” She pulled him to his feet and he stood straight, his thumbs hooked into his belt as he met each of their surprised eyes in turn. 

Oz popped out of the crowd and stepped up behind Willow, placing his hands lightly on her shoulders. “Spike. Good look. Suits you.”

Spike smiled. “Thanks, Oz. Was all Buffy’s doin’. She dragged me all over the mall yesterday and to a bleedin’ salon and jewelry store this mornin’.”

Oz smirked. “Lorne?”

Spike nodded. “Yeah. He do yours?”

Oz nodded. “Yeah.”

Xander laughed, “Well, now that we’ve established that Bleach Boy and Blue Boy get their hair done by the same dude… Buffy? Do you have anything you want to share with the class? Something involving Captain Peroxide there, perhaps?”

Buffy blushed slightly and reached for Spike’s hand, twining their fingers together. “Spike and I are going out… exclusively.”

Oz held his hand out and Spike shook it as Xander jumped up and wrapped his arm over Spike’s shoulders. “Welcome to the Scoobies! It’s always cool to have another guy in the group…” He narrowed his eyes and glared at Angel. “A nice guy.” Angel ducked his head and stared at his soda as Xander sat back down then glanced at Willow, wondering what she thought of the Spike and Buffy news. She was just sitting there, still as a statue except for the nervous glances she kept shooting at Angel. Xander thumped his cast on the table top. “So… not that your news isn’t cool and great and everything, but that’s why you wanted us to meet you here? You couldn’t just tell us this on the phone? Or at school on Monday?”

Spike sat back down and tugged Buffy back down onto his lap as Oz took the seat next to Willow. Buffy nodded to Angel. “He’s got something to say to you guys. I didn’t tell you that because I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

Everyone turned their eyes to Angel and he gulped and looked down at his hands that were still clutching the glass of Pepsi. “All right. Um… I’d like to apologize.” He looked up at Xander. “I’m sorry for pushing you down the stairs, and…” He dug in his back pocket and handed Xander an envelope. “Here’s the money for your medical bills.” 

Xander opened the envelope and thumbed through the bills inside. “Holy shit.” He looked up at Buffy. “This is why you wanted to talk to my Mom last night? I thought that was of the weird, you hardly ever talk to my Mom.”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah. Angel needed to know how much your arm cost.” 

Xander grinned at Angel as he tucked the envelope into his back pocket. “Thanks, man. Now my Dad will hopefully lay off me. He was pretty pissed about the bill and he’s been making me work weekends at the site doing clean-up to pay him back. Sucks with only one arm.”

Angel gripped his soda tighter. “Sorry about that.”

Buffy nudged Angel. “Keep going.”

Angel nodded and turned to Oz. “I’m sorry I broke your bass. Is the one you got going to work?” 

Oz nodded and pointed at the stage. “Taking her out on her virgin voyage tonight.”

Angel took a deep breath as he looked at Willow. “Willow… um… I know that there’s nothing I can buy you or pay back to make this better, and I know just saying I’m sorry probably isn’t going to make you stop being afraid of me, but I really mean it. I am sorry. I really didn’t mean any of those things I said to you, and like I told Spike and Buffy, I let Riley and the other guys get to me. I know I’m the one who did it, and I’m not trying to make excuses, but that’s why.” He looked around at the group and took another deep breath. “I’m not going to pick on any of you anymore, I promise.”

Nobody spoke for a few minutes as they all just stared at Angel. Finally he leaned over and whispered to Buffy. “Um… what now?”

Buffy looked around the table. “Do you guys believe Angel and accept his apology?”

Xander nodded. “Yeah… I’m good. Oz?”

Oz smiled. “I’m good.” He leaned into Willow and wrapped his arm over her shoulders. “Wils?”

She looked over at him then shyly glanced at Angel and dropped her eyes to her lap. Her hand clenched into a fist as she slowly raised her head and her resolve face slipped to the fore. “No, Angel, there isn’t anything you can buy me that will erase the mean and hurtful things you said to me.” Angel’s face crumpled in shame and he dropped his gaze to his lap. Willow leaned forward and knocked smartly on the table top. “Not done, mister. I took the things you said, so you can damn well look me in the face right now.” Angel looked up and locked eyes with her. “You hurt me, Angel. The things you said cut me and bruised me, but it’s nothing that you can see and nothing that a cast or a new bass will fix.” Angel wanted to drop his eyes in shame again, but he held fast and was surprised when the hint of a smile flitted around Willow’s lips. “I believe you, Angel. I don’t know why, but I do. I’ll give you a chance, I guess, but… don’t hurt me again.”

Angel shook his head vigorously. “I won’t, Willow, I promise. And if anybody else starts hassling you…” He looked around the table. “Any of you… let me know and I’ll handle it.”

Xander looked at Angel in surprise. “You’re gonna go against your team? Riley and Forrest and the rest of them?”

Angel nodded. “Yeah.”

Buffy nudged Angel again. “He’s gonna tell Riley to lay off Spike when he gets back to school, so he’s going to be leper boy as far as the team’s concerned.” She smiled over at Angel. “Spike and I told him he could hang with us if he wanted.”

Angel chuckled, “But Spike absolutely refused to have any sleepovers or braid my hair.”

Xander looked between Spike and Angel then burst into laughter. “I just had a vision of you two having a pillow fight… while wearing girl’s pajamas.” When his announcement was met with quiet, wide-eyed stares, he blushed and smiled depreciatively. “Yeah… it’s scary inside my head sometimes.”

Something in the crowd over Xander’s shoulder caught Spike’s eye and he looked at Angel. “You remember how you said you were gonna stand up to Finn?”

Angel nodded. “Uh… yeah. Just said it a minute ago, Spike. I haven’t taken that many hits that I can’t remember what happened a minute ago.”

“Fair enough.” Spike nodded toward the figure that had stepped up next to Xander. “Looks like you’re ‘bout to get the chance.”


	22. Shovel

Bruises  
Chapter 22 – Shovel

Riley stepped up next to Xander and smacked him in the back of the head as he sneered over at Angel. “What the hell are you doing hanging with the loser patrol, man? Is this part of your punishment? Having to be seen with these freaks?”

Angel got slowly to his feet. “Fuck off, Finn. They’re not losers or freaks, they’re…” He glanced around the table and received quick nods of affirmation from everyone seated there then looked back at Riley defiantly. “They’re my friends.”

Riley brayed laughter as he leaned on Xander for support and clutched his middle. “Friends! That’s a good one! You never said you were a comedian!” 

Xander shoved him off with his good arm then stood up and moved around the table to stand next to Angel. “He’s not joking, you dumbass. We’re his friends and he told you to fuck off, so why don’t you get started on that?”

Riley’s laughter cut off immediately and he glared at Xander. “Nobody’s talking to you, fuckhead. Now sit your ass down before I break your other arm.”

Spike nudged Buffy off his lap and got to his feet then stepped up on the other side of Angel. “Don’t think so, you plonker. Three against one…” He smirked at Xander’s broken arm. “Well… two and a half against one. Sounds like your kind of odds… only in reverse this time.”

Riley peered at Spike, a look of utter confusion on his face. “Who the hell are you?”

Spike snorted and elbowed Angel. “Looks like he took a few more hits than you did, eh, Peaches?” Angel nodded at him with a grin and Spike turned back to Riley. “You’ve forgotten already? You and Gates pounded on me the other day outside the gym.” He motioned to the fading bruises on his face. “Ringin’ any bells yet, you bloody ignorant sod?”

They could almost smell the smoke from the gears turning in Riley’s head as he looked Spike over. Finally something clicked and he sneered. “Well… shit. Looks like I hit you hard enough to knock all the color out of your hair. That’s new. Have to try to remember exactly what I did and do it again… maybe it’ll knock the color back in.”

Angel pushed Xander out of the way – gently this time – and stepped up in front of Riley, nose to nose. “Not gonna happen, Finn. You want any of them, you’re gonna have to come through me. Now. Fuck. Off.”

Riley held up his hands in surrender as he continued to sneer at Angel. “Hey… not here to cause trouble.” He dropped his hands as he turned and pinned Spike with a threatening glare. “See you later, Blondie. That’s a fucking promise.” He flipped Spike the bird then spun on his heel and pushed back through the crowd without even a backwards glance.

Angel and Xander moved around each other and resumed their seats as Buffy pulled Spike back to their chair and resumed her spot on his lap. She twined her fingers with his and leaned back, laying her head on his shoulder. “Well, that was… fun.”

Spike nodded with a small smirk and turned his head to whisper in Buffy’s ear. “Not as fun as some of the other things I’ve done in the last few days, kitten.”

Buffy shifted slightly on Spike’s lap and turned her head, catching his lips in a kiss. Xander groaned, “Aww, geez… get a room.” 

Buffy pressed her lips just a little harder to Spike’s then turned and smiled at Xander. “Shut it, Xan.”

Angel was glowering at the spot where Riley had disappeared into the crowd and Xander turned to follow his gaze then looked at him questioningly. “Whatcha lookin’ at, Gel Boy?”

Angel’s glare fell on Xander and turned into a smile, “Gel Boy?” then he looked between Spike and Xander. “What is with you two not using people’s actual names?” He nodded at the crowd. “Finn’s probably talking to Gates and the rest of them right now, figuring out where and when he’s going to jump Spike.”

Spike shrugged. “And that would be different from any other day how? What about Xander? Won’t Finn go after him? Or Oz? Or you?”

Angel turned and focused on Spike. “Probably not. He may not be the brightest bulb in the box, but he’s not stupid. I got suspended for what I did to Xander and Oz, and at heart; Riley’s a chicken shit little bastard, so he’s not going to take that chance. He knows that what I did to you wasn’t included in the suspension, even though Mr. Giles was standing right there and saw the whole thing, so he’ll figure that you’re the easiest target. And he knows he can’t take me, he’s never been able to… so he won’t come after me.”

Spike sighed loudly, “Well, that’s just bleedin’ fantastic. Guess school’s gonna be interestin’ for a while, yeah?”

Angel shook his head. “He won’t come after you at school. You’re dating the principal’s daughter, so you’re kind of high profile now, and after my suspension’s over I’ll be there and he won’t tangle with me… you saw how he backed down as soon as I stepped up to him, right? He’ll try to find you outside school, so that’s when you’ll have to be looking out for him.”

Spike shrugged. “Let ‘im try. Told you yesterday that I’m bloody tired of bein’ the resident punchin’ bag… and you know how much I can take…”

Angel nodded as he threw a furtive glance at the rest of the Scoobies. “Yeah, I know, just… be careful. He’s crazy, Spike. I’m talking serious screws loose.”

Oz got to his feet and nodded toward the stage. “About time to start. See you guys later.” He bent down and gave Willow a quick kiss then disappeared into the crowd.

Everyone at the table startled slightly when Willow suddenly bolted to her feet and pointed menacingly at Spike. “I have something to say to you, Spike.”

Spike looked warily at her over Buffy’s shoulder, wondering what he possibly could’ve done to anger the redhead. “Uh… all right, Red. What’s on your mind?”

Buffy giggled because she knew what was coming and climbed off Spike’s lap. He looked up at her with a confused and slightly worried expression as she moved over to stand next to Willow. Xander got out of his chair as well and stood next to Buffy, the three of them presenting a united front. Spike glanced at Angel, wondering if he was going to get up and join the group, but his look of confusion mirrored Spike’s. 

Spike turned back to Willow and swallowed heavily as she leaned down and said one word in a strong, quiet voice, poking him in the chest for good measure. “Shovel.”

Spike’s eyes widened and he sputtered, “Pardon?”

Willow smiled… and it wasn’t a sweet smile… it was a smile that promised pain… and lots of it. “I’m warning you now, Mister Man, you do anything to hurt my Buffy-shaped friend and I’ll beat you to death with a shovel. Got that?”

Xander leaned down as well and got right in Spike’s face. “And I’ll help. My Dad’s in construction… he has lots of shovels.” They both straightened up and wrapped their arms around Buffy. 

Spike sat up straight and nodded gravely. “Understood. I’ll not do anything to harm Buffy. I give you my word.”

Xander grinned and moved toward the bar. “I’m gonna get something to drink, be right back.”

Willow smiled brightly as she dropped back into her chair and Buffy sat back down on Spike’s lap then wrapped her arms around his neck. “You did good, Spike.”

Spike smiled. “What exactly was that, luv?”

Buffy shrugged. “Just your standard ‘shovel’ speech. We give it to anybody that one of us is dating once it starts getting serious. Xan and I gave it to Oz. He just nodded and said, ‘Okay.’ It was pretty cute.”

Angel glanced at Willow and muttered, “I didn’t get the shovel speech.”

Willow frowned over at him. “You’re surprised? Really?”

Angel shrugged then shook his head. “No, I guess not.”

Buffy pulled Spike into a deep, tongue tangling kiss that left him dazed and panting then bounced off his lap and over to Willow. “Let’s hit the ladies, Wil.” Willow got up and followed Buffy through the crowd as Spike shifted slightly and tried to adjust himself in his tight jeans.

Angel smirked at him. “Having a problem there, Spike?”

Spike shrugged and shook his head. “Not a problem, necessarily. I’m just bloody hard all the time ‘round her. Gets a tad uncomfortable after a while.” He looked up at Angel with a knowing smile. “I imagine you had that problem as well, yeah?”

Angel shook his head. “No, not really. I mean… I liked Buffy, and she’s cute…” Spike quirked his eyebrow and Angel smiled. “All right, she’s gorgeous… but she’s not really my type.”

“Then why’d you go out with her?”

Angel shrugged. “I like strong, bossy girls that speak their mind, and Buffy is that, but she’s small, and blonde, and I thought I could get past that, but I really couldn’t. I prefer brunettes, tall ones with big…” He held his hands cupped in front of his chest and Spike smirked. Angel blushed. “Yeah… So, anyway, Buffy just doesn’t do it for me.”

Spike leaned over and nudged Angel. “Bet I know who does. Tall, brunette, large…” Spike held his hands in front of his chest the same way that Angel had. “And that chit certainly speaks her mind… profusely. She gives quite the tongue lashin’ from what I’ve seen; thankfully I’ve never been on the receivin’ end.” Spike winked. “If Cordelia’s as infatuated with you as Buffy alluded to, you’d be a fool to let her slip away, Peaches.”

Angel shrugged. “Yeah, I’m just nervous about asking her out. Like you said, she gives a pretty good tongue lashing and I don’t want her to shoot me down in front of half the school. Buffy already did that and it wasn’t as fun as you might think.”

“Maybe Buffy could put in a good word, you know, cheerleader to cheerleader.”

Angel turned a hopeful gaze on Spike. “You think she’d do that?”

Spike shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt to ask, could it? All she can do is say no and then you’re no worse off than you are now.”

Angel nodded then his gaze turned serious. “Speaking of worse off… I know you can take a beating, but can you fight? At all? Were any of those stories you told at school true?”

Spike dropped his head in shame and muttered, “No, not a one. I’ve never struck another person in my entire life… it was all just bluster and false bravado.”

Angel smirked. “Didn’t seem very ‘false’ when you had me backed up to that display at the mall. I was sure you were gonna beat me like a rug.”

Spike smiled for a second then shrugged. “Just talk. I was angry, as you’ve probably ascertained, but I doubt I would’ve been able to do any damage even if I had struck you. Actually, that’s the first time I’ve ever laid hands on another person in anger… and all I did was wrinkle your shirt.”

Angel looked thoughtful for a moment then leaned closer and spoke quietly. “Do you want me to teach you how to fight? I’ve been taking martial arts classes since I was six, so…”

Spike looked over at Angel with a cautiously hopeful gaze. “You’d do that? I don’t know if I’d be any good, I’m not very big. Probably why I get pounded on so frequently.”

Angel smiled. “Martial arts isn’t about size, it’s mostly balance and directing your strength. I’ve seen the tiniest girl in my class take down the largest instructor…” He blushed and suddenly looked slightly embarrassed. “In fact, just last week, I was taken down by a girl about Buffy’s size. She used my own weight against me and had me flat on my back on the mat before I even knew what’d hit me.”

Spike was quiet for a few minutes then he nodded. “Yeah, I’d like to give it a go, if you’re sure you don’t mind. It’d be nice to be able to at least defend myself when Finn and his mates come after me.” He reached over and clapped Angel on the shoulder. “Thanks, Angel. I appreciate it.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Buffy burst through the door into the alley, clutching Spike’s hand as she pulled him through behind her. The door slammed shut and Buffy stumbled to the wall then leaned heavily against it, breathing hard. “Wow. I’ve never danced that much in my life! My feet are killing me!”

Spike smirked at her. “Well, if you didn’t wear such bloody impractical shoes...” 

She smirked back at him and fisted her hands in the lapels of his duster, pulling him close. “You said you liked my shoes.” He moaned low in his throat as her lips found his and she plunged her tongue into his mouth. When she pulled back, she smiled at the dazed expression on his face. “So?”

He shook his head and blinked. “What? Was there a question?”

She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck then started nibbling on his ear and murmured, “Do you like my shoes?” 

He mumbled, “Not if they’ve hurt you, I don’t.”

Buffy pulled back and looked at the serious expression on his face. “You’re the sweetest guy ever, you know that?”

Spike smiled and dipped his head, nibbling lightly on her neck. “I could give you a foot rub, if you like, after we bin those masochistic torture devices on your feet.”

Buffy leaned her head back on the wall as his lips and teeth worried at her neck. “That would… guh… be…” His hand slid slowly up the inside of her thigh and slipped under her skirt, his fingers stroking lightly as her hands clutched his arms. “Oh… God… so good.” 

He lifted his head away from her neck and smirked as his fingers stroked a little harder. “The foot rub or binnin’ those shoes?”

She regarded him with eyes whose pupils were pretty much all black. “Oh… God… the foot… mmmm… rub… I’m… aaahh… keeping the…” Her head dropped forward and she rested her forehead on his shoulder as he reached down and lifted her leg then pushed her panties to the side and slid two fingers into her. Her hands clutched harder, fingers digging into his biceps even through the duster as he pumped his fingers forcefully into her. She screamed into the leather as her body clenched and shuddered around his fingers then she laid her head back on the wall and whispered, “Want you, Spike. Want enchiladas… now.”

He pulled back, dropping her leg as he shook his head. “No, Buffy. Not here. I’ll not do that to you. You deserve better than to be taken in an alley, especially for your first time.” He reached out and tugged her skirt back down then looked at her shyly, a hint of trepidation on his face. “I’ll understand if you’re cross with me, but… I just can’t… I won’t disrespect you that way, Buffy. I’m sorry. I’ll do appetizers here, but the entrée will have to wait for a more suitable location.”

Buffy smiled and reached out, fisting her hands in the leather and pulling him close. “You’re perfect, Spike.” She leaned in and gently kissed him, whispering against his lips, “I’m the luckiest girl on the planet to get a guy like you, and you’re going to be a very **happy** guy when we get to the ‘suitable location.’ Very happy.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, “Take me home, Spike.”

Spike bent and hooked his arm under her knees, lifting her snugly against his chest. “Yes, ma’am.” He carried her toward her car, not noticing the pair of angry eyes that locked onto him as soon as he emerged from the alley and followed his every step across the parking lot.

Riley tightly gripped the head that was bobbing in his lap as he watched Spike carry Buffy over to her car and set her gently on her feet beside it. He sneered, “Soon, Blondie. I’ll be seeing you real soon.”


	23. Dawn

Bruises  
Chapter 23 – Dawn

“Mom! Dad! We’re home!” Buffy waited for Spike to walk into the house then closed the door behind him. They hung up their coats then he held her arm as she bent down and pulled the shoes off her sore feet. She straightened up and wiggled her toes with a relieved sigh then tossed the shoes haphazardly under the table by the door and looked at Spike pointedly. “Those better be there when I come back to get them, Spike. No binning.”

Spike chuckled. “All right, pet, I won’t bin ‘em if you won’t dance in ‘em anymore… deal?”

Buffy reached for his red over shirt and pulled him close. “Deal.” She caught his lips in a gentle kiss then wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. “Thanks for being such a good boyfriend and dancing with me the whole time.”

He placed a gentle kiss to her hair. “Not a problem, kitten. Love dancin’ with you.”

She squeezed him just a little harder. “You were getting a lot of looks from a lot of people, Spike.”

He sounded surprised, “I was?” She nodded and he chuckled. “Didn’t notice, luv. Too busy watchin’ my girl to see anybody else.”

She nuzzled against his chest. “I had to glare down a couple of girls… one in particular, but I don’t think she took the hint. She might be a problem when we get back to school.”

He pulled back and lifted her chin. “No she won’t, kitten. I won’t let her be a problem.” He brushed a kiss across her lips and smiled. “Who was it?” His smile faded a little at her look of insecurity and he hurried to continue, “Not that I’m interested, pet. Just want to be aware of which one to look out for, is all. You’re my girl, Buffy... only you.” Buffy smiled tentatively and Spike whispered, “So which one’s gonna be after me?”

Buffy smiled brightly and giggled, “Harmony Kendall.”

Spike groaned, “Oh… bloody hell. That chit’s thick as two planks. I’m not surprised she didn’t take a hint. She wouldn’t know a hint if it reared up and bit her on the arse.”

Buffy laughed, “Well, if she doesn’t leave you alone, I’m gonna **kick** her ‘arse,’ not bite it.” She winced a bit when she shifted her weight to her other foot and looked up at him. “Do your feet hurt as bad as mine do?”

He shook his head and looked down at his boots. “No, I have sensible footwear, luv.”

She leaned in and nipped at his chest. “Oh shut up! Those shoes are really cute and they make me taller!”

Spike lifted her up and she automatically wrapped her legs around his waist as her arms settled around his neck. “Yeah, but they also cause you pain.” He slid his hands along her legs to where they crossed at his lower back then started gently rubbing her aching feet. “Is the pain worth it, pet?”

Buffy moaned and her eyes drifted shut as his fingers pressed and massaged. “If it gets you to do this… then yeah… totally worth it.”

Spike chuckled and stepped into the living room, setting Buffy lightly on the arm of the couch. He knelt in front of her and took one foot in his hands, warming it slightly before he continued to massage. “You don’t have to torture yourself to get me to do this, Buffy. Just ask.”

Buffy moaned a little louder and bit her lip as she watched his fingers kneading her flesh. “Yeah… I’ll remember that.”

The front door suddenly burst open, startling them both, and Joyce bustled through loaded down with three pizza boxes, her purse, and the mail. Spike jumped to his feet and darted forward to relieve her of the pizza boxes while Buffy limped over and grabbed the mail. Joyce pushed the door closed with a tired, “Thank you both. God, what a long day.” She hung her purse and keys on their hooks then walked quickly to the kitchen, followed by Buffy and Spike. “Sorry about dinner, I’ve got a meeting tonight with the Gallery investors and I don’t have time to cook.” 

Buffy shrugged as she dropped the mail on the kitchen counter. “No problem. Where’s Dad and Dawnie?”

Joyce started pulling plates out of the cupboard and motioned for Spike to set the pizza on the island. “He took her to buy a Halloween costume. They should be back any minute… I hope. The meeting starts in half an hour.”

Just then, the front door banged open and a loud squeal was heard, accompanied by the sound of pounding feet headed for the kitchen. Dawn burst through the kitchen door and screeched to a halt, thrusting an orange bag toward Buffy. “Look! Look what I got! It’s the best costume ever!”

Spike startled at the exaggerated motions and noise coming from the little girl and started sidling around the island, putting it safely between them. He stood slightly behind Joyce and peeked at the excited child over her shoulder as Dawn pulled her costume out of the bag and held it up. “I’m gonna be a vampire! Look, I’ve got a cape and fangs and everything!”

Buffy laughed and took the long, black cape then held it up to Dawn. “I thought only boy vampires wore capes.”

Dawn shook her head, ready to impart her extensive knowledge of the subject to her apparently clueless older sister. “No, almost all vampires wear capes or long leather coats… well, the cool ones do anyway, everybody knows that.” She dug in the bag and held up two tubes, one white and one red. “I’ve got white face paint and the red is for blood… you know, to drip from my fangs. You have to help me put it on.”

Buffy giggled, “I do? Who says?”

Dawn huffed and put her tiny hands on her hips, suddenly looking very much like her older sister. “Mom said, so there.”

Joyce laughed, “She’s got you there, Buffy. I need you and Spike to take her trick-or-treating because your father and I will be at the Gallery for the Halloween fundraiser. That’s what tonight’s meeting is about, going over the final details so we can make sure we’re ready by next weekend.”

Dawn finally noticed the boy standing silent and wide-eyed behind her mother. She thrust the rest of her costume at Buffy then walked toward the island with her hand out. “Hi, Spike. I’m Dawn.”

Spike looked at her warily then extended his own hand over the island. Dawn took it in a strong grip and shook it as Spike stammered, “Very nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Dawn.”

Dawn giggled, “You talk just like Daddy!” She let go of his hand then looked him over. “Your hair’s different… I like it.” She turned to face Buffy and whispered quite loudly, “He’s really cute,” then waggled her eyebrows and nodded back over her shoulder at Spike. “Hubba, hubba.”

Buffy yelped, “Dawnie! God!”

Joyce was trying, mostly unsuccessfully, to smother the laughter that wanted to bubble out, finally giving up at Dawn’s indignant cry of, “Well, he is cute! Don’t you think so?”

Buffy looked over at a furiously blushing Spike then turned and smiled at Dawn. “Yes, I think he’s gorgeous, and he’s my boyfriend, Dawnie, so be nice to him, ok?”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “I’d be nice to him even if he wasn’t your boyfriend, Buffy.”

Buffy giggled. “I know that… what I mean is no tea parties, or trying to get him to let you put makeup on him, or guilting him into playing Barbies with you or anything. Okay? Teenage boys don’t really like those kinds of things.”

Dawn huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, “Fine.” She grumbled under her breath, “But he’s already wearing makeup… and nail polish.”

Buffy smirked. “Yes, he is, but that’s all he wants to wear, okay? He doesn’t want pink or purple anything on him, Dawnie, and that’s all you have.”

Dawn huffed again and nodded. “Fine, I’ll leave him alone.”

Joyce smothered one last chortle and put on a serious face. “All right, now that we’ve gotten that sorted out, your father is waiting for me out in the car. I’m not sure how late this meeting is going to run, so make sure Dawn gets to bed on time.” 

Dawn pouted, “But its Friday! Can’t I stay up later? I wanted to watch a movie with Buffy and Spike and have popcorn and ice cream and everything.”

Buffy shrugged when Joyce looked at her questioningly. “Fine with me, Mom. You go ahead; Spike and I will handle Dawnie.”

Joyce stepped around the island and pulled both girls into a hug. “See you in the morning.” She cast a stern glare at Dawnie. “Be good and mind your sister and Spike.”

Dawn sighed a sigh of the enormously put upon. “Yes, Mom.”

Joyce smiled at Spike. “See you in the morning, Spike.” He nodded faintly as she turned and left the kitchen.

He’d been standing on the other side of the island watching the three females with growing apprehension. Evidently he was expected to spend an entire evening in the company of a little girl… something he’d never before experienced… and the thought of the interminable hours stretching ahead of him filled him with a leaden sense of dread. He wondered briefly if it would be unforgivably rude to excuse himself and retreat to his room on the pretense of turning in early, but then he shook his head. No, Joyce and Buffy both expected him to help care for the child and it just wouldn’t do to run out on that responsibility. His fear of disappointing either one of them outweighed his fear of the excitedly babbling girl who was busily showing all the components of her costume to an interested Buffy. He squared his shoulders and tried to mentally prepare himself for the evening to come. 

His fears proved to be unfounded. Dawn was an engaging child, precocious and whip smart, just like her sister, and she possessed an amazing grasp of Spike’s emotional state. She seemed to instinctively understand that she made him exceedingly nervous, so she took it upon herself to try to make him feel at ease and welcome. 

They’d taken the pizza into the living room, forgoing the plates at Dawn’s gentle insistence that their parents let them eat pizza in the living room all the time. Spike had looked uneasy at taking instruction from a nine year old and was ready to pick up the plates that Joyce had set out on the island when Buffy confirmed that eating in the living room was allowed… sans plates. They had eaten the pizza right out of the box while they sat on the floor in front of the couch and played several increasingly greasy hands of Go Fish. 

During the first game, Dawn and Spike had seemed to be at war over who was going to let the other win until Buffy had finally intervened and took the victory. When he saw that losing did not cause the girl undue distress, Spike had started playing for real. 

Buffy left them to it with a gentle smile and grabbed the binder out of the drawer in the entertainment stand then sat down on the couch behind Spike and started flipping through the lists of movies, naming off possible choices whenever she could get a word in edgewise over Dawn’s giggling and Spike’s low chuckles.

By the fifth round of Go Fish, the cards were starting to be too greasy to hold onto and the game was scrapped in favor of watching a movie. Several movie choices had been presented and discarded during the card games, and they were still no closer to selecting something to watch. 

Dawn whined, “But **Underworld** is an awesome movie, Buffy! And I’m going to be a vampire for Halloween, so I need to watch it… so I can um… learn how to be a vampire!”

Buffy shook her head. “No way. Mom will kill us both if I let you watch that. It’s rated R, Dawnie.”

Dawn whined a little louder, “But Colton’s mom let him watch it!”

Buffy grinned. “And look at how much I’m not Colton’s mom. How about **Twilight** instead? It’s about vampires.”

Dawn snorted, “Those aren’t vampires, Buffy. Vampires aren’t supposed to sparkle… duh, and real vampires burn up when they go out in the sun.”

Buffy smirked. “Good point… um…”

Dawn looked over at Spike who was leaning back against the couch nibbling on a pizza crust, one arm wrapped around Buffy’s lower leg. “What movie do you want to watch, Spike?”

He looked up at her with a deer in the headlights expression. “Oh… whatever you ladies choose will be fine.”

Buffy leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to his head. “Nah… you pick or Dawnie and I will argue over it all night and we won’t get to watch anything. It doesn’t even have to be a movie, we have a bunch of TV shows on disc and we can watch a few episodes of one of them if you want.” She flipped through the binder then leaned forward and held it in front of him. “Here’s what we have for TV shows. See anything you like?”

Spike scanned the list quickly, his eyes widening as he neared the middle. “You’ve got **Firefly**? That’s one of my favorites! Haven’t seen it in ages! I used to have it on disc as well, but…”

Buffy closed the binder and laid it next to her on the couch then leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Incredible asshole threw it out, right?” Spike nodded and Buffy growled under her breath as she got up and loaded the first **Firefly** disc into the DVD player. She turned around and clapped her hands. “All right. We need popcorn, ice cream, and soda. Let’s move!”

Spike and Dawn scrambled to their feet and followed Buffy into the kitchen. Spike stuffed the remainder of the pizza into the fridge as Buffy popped a bag of popcorn into the microwave. Dawn skipped down to the basement and brought up three buckets of ice cream – chocolate, strawberry, and Rocky Road. “Which one do you want, Spike?”

He looked them over. “Rocky Road will do me quite nicely, Niblet, thank you.”

Dawn looked up from the buckets she’d been arranging on the counter. “Niblet?”

Spike blushed and busied himself pulling bowls out of the cupboard. “Sorry… Dawn. Won’t call you Niblet if you don’t like it.”

She stepped up beside him and tugged on the sleeve of his red over shirt until he looked down at her. “Didn’t say I didn’t like it… what’s it mean?”

He stammered, “Oh… uh… ‘small one’ is probably the closest definition. Um… also means someone younger than yourself.”

Buffy stepped up behind Dawn and laid her hands on her small shoulders. “Spike calls some people by a nickname, Dawnie, but mostly just people he likes.”

Dawn tilted her head back and looked up at the smiling face of her sister. “What does he call you?”

“Kitten.”

Dawn smiled and wrapped her thin arms around Spike’s middle. “I like it, Spike. You can call me Niblet if you want.”

Spike tensed slightly when Dawn hugged him, but when he looked over at Buffy and saw the soft look on her face as she watched them, he relaxed and wrapped his arms around the tiny girl. “All right, Niblet. Let’s get goin’ on that ice cream, yeah?”

Dawn squeezed him then backed up, her face beaming. “Okay, Spike.” She took the bowls he’d set on the counter and started dishing up the ice cream while Spike pulled a few cans of soda out of the fridge and Buffy pulled the popcorn out of the microwave. “What kind do you want, Buffy?”

“Plain chocolate for me.” She poured the popcorn into a large bowl then set it on the counter next to Spike’s heaping bowl of ice cream. When he turned away from the fridge with an armful of soda, she nodded at the bowl. “Hope you’re hungry.”

Spike looked over at the bowl and his eyes got wide as he whispered, “Bloody hell.” 

Buffy snagged his arm with one hand and picked up the bowl of popcorn with the other. “We’re gonna put this stuff in the living room, Dawnie, be right back.” 

She nodded, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth as she dug another scoop of ice cream out of the bucket. “Okay.”

Buffy led Spike into the living room and set the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. “Well, I think it’s safe to say that she likes you… and I guess she’s outgrown the whole ‘boys are icky’ stage.”

Spike glanced at the kitchen door then tilted his head. “How do you figure, luv? All she did was hug me…”

Buffy giggled, “Rocky Road is her absolute favorite ice cream in the world. She doesn’t share it… at all… she won’t even let Dad have any. That entire bucket is only for her… so… since she just dished you almost half of it… I think she likes you.”


	24. Going Home

Bruises  
Chapter 24 – Going Home

Joyce pushed the door open quietly and stepped into the house then turned to Rupert who was walking noisily up the steps. “Shhh… they’re all asleep on the couch.”

Rupert nodded and stepped through the door. He looked over at the couch then did a double-take, his eyes widening before he turned and smirked at Joyce. “For just a moment there, I was sure Billy Idol was sandwiched between my daughters.” He smiled as he looked over at the three slumbering forms again. Spike was sitting in the middle of the sofa with Buffy on one side and Dawn on the other. Buffy was curled into Spike’s side, her head resting on his shoulder and his arm wrapped tightly around her. He was slouched down a bit, his cheek resting on the top of Buffy’s head. Dawn was lying on her side with her head on his leg and the blanket that someone had tossed over her pulled up to her chin. His hand was resting lightly on her head, his fingers somewhat tangled in her long, brown hair. “You weren’t exaggerating at all about Spike’s new look. It is quite striking. When you described it to me, I was somewhat hesitant, but you were right, dear, as you always are. It does fit him.”

Joyce smiled lovingly up at her husband. “Maybe we should let Buffy give you a makeover, too.”

Rupert shook his head with a smile. “No thank you, dear lady. I’m quite happy as I am.”

XXXX

It was dark, not even a sliver of light to see by, but he could hear ragged breathing interspersed with snuffling sobs coming from somewhere in front of him. He remained quiet himself, not wanting to alert anyone to his presence, but then he realized that someone obviously already knew he was there. After all, you don’t usually get chained naked and spread eagled to a brick wall all by yourself. The manacles around his wrists and ankles were digging painfully into his skin and his back was pressed tightly against the cold bricks. He figured he’d been hanging there for some time based on the ache in his arms and shoulders and the blood he could feel dripping down his back from where the sharp edges of the bricks had broken the skin.

XXXX

The TV was still playing **Firefly** and Joyce stood and watched Kaylee tell Mal that they should ‘question’ the buffet table because she’d spied the huge bowl of strawberries being carried over to it. Joyce chuckled quietly as Mal told her not to make herself sick and Kaylee started walking toward the table, the skirt of her ruffled pink dress swaying gently. Joyce glanced over her shoulder at the snoozing kids on the couch then powered down the TV and DVD player. She turned around and started gathering the empty ice cream bowls, the popcorn bowl, and the empty soda cans. Rupert helped her gather the mess and they carted it all into the kitchen as Rupert said quietly, “I’ll take Dawn up to her room if you want to sort the other two.”

Joyce nodded as they quickly set the kitchen to rights then headed back out to the living room. Giles bent and gently untangled Spike’s fingers from Dawn’s hair, then picked her up, blanket and all, and started for the stairs. Joyce gently shook Buffy’s shoulder and she looked up sleepily and muttered, “Mom? What time is it?”

XXXX

He suddenly realized where he was, although the brick wall and chains were new. He could tell by the scents surrounding him… blood – new and old – and the thick plastic smell from the blue tarp that his father kept spread out on the floor. He was in the room. His heart started thudding loudly in his chest as he realized that this time he wasn’t the one cuffed to the post in the middle. It was someone else – and based on the sniffling and small whimpers and sobs, that someone was female.

XXXX

“It’s late, honey. You two should get to bed.”

Joyce stepped back as Buffy gently slid out from underneath Spike’s arm and stood up, stretching her arms over her head and yawning widely. She pulled Joyce into a hug, murmuring quietly into her ear. “Dawnie really likes Spike.”

Joyce smiled as Buffy released her and backed up. “How do you know?”

Buffy smirked. “She let him eat almost half of her Rocky Road.”

Joyce looked down at the slumbering young man with a warm smile. “Well, she’s always had a good grasp of people’s character. Remember how she stomped on Riley’s foot and then kicked him in the shin?”

Buffy laughed quietly, “Yeah. And she was totally right about him, he’s a complete jerk.”

XXXX

He could hear James coming now, the sound of his heavy boots on the stairs drifting in through the door that had been left open. No need to worry about Anne hearing anything anymore… she was gone. James stepped through the doorway carrying a flashlight and pointed the beam right at his son’s face, blinding him. “About fucking time you woke up, boy. Wouldn’t want you to miss this, considering it’s your fault she’s here.”

XXXX

Joyce moved toward her purse and pulled a folded piece of paper out of it then motioned for Buffy to follow her into the kitchen. Once they were through the door, Joyce held the paper out to Buffy. “Here’s Spike’s contract. I had Anya look it over and she said that everything is on the up and up and then she asked me if Spike was single because he has an excellent financial future.” Joyce smirked. “She also wanted me to tell him that she doesn’t have a problem dating younger men.”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “She’s like twenty-two! God! Cradle-robber much? And he isn’t single; I hope you told her that!” 

Joyce laughed. “I told her, Buffy, don’t worry. She was a little upset that he was taken considering how much he’s going to be making working for Milly.”

Buffy huffed. “Good… I’m glad she was upset… he’s my freaking boyfriend and she can just go find her own!” She stopped long enough to take a breath and let her brain catch up to what her mother had just said. “Wait… you know Milly?”

Joyce nodded. “She’s one of the Gallery’s largest investors. I called her after you two left to ask her if she was sure about how much she’s paying Spike.”

Buffy giggled. “You should’ve seen him when he read that part… he said he was ‘gob smacked.’ And she was? Sure, I mean?”

“Yes. She told me that she’s been looking for someone to manage the store so she could spend more time with her daughter and that Spike was the most intelligent and engaging young man to ever set foot in the place. That’s why she offered him the job even without a formal interview and the usual procedures. He impressed her that much with his passion for literature.” Joyce smiled widely and wrapped her arm over Buffy’s shoulders. “She also told me something else tonight after the meeting. She’s decided that once Spike graduates and has been manager for a year; she’ll turn the store over to him, lock, stock, and barrel… if he wants it.”

XXXX

“My fault? What’s my fault? Who’s over there?” His answer was a burning stripe across his stomach from the whip and he shouted in pain.

“You don’t talk to me, boy, or have you forgotten the rules already? Screams are the only things I want to hear coming out of that useless mouth of yours.” The whip flicked out again, this time burning a line across the inside of his upper thigh. He screamed and James laughed. “Yeah… just like that. You know, it’s a pretty bad time for the fucking power to go out. I wanted you to see how nicely she took to the whip. She doesn’t take it as well as you do yet, but then again, she hasn’t had as much practice. That’ll change.” 

James moved away and he heard the crack of the whip against flesh, but all she did was whimper. “See? No stamina. You’d still be screaming.” Another crack and another whimper. “Oh… and it’s your fault because you told. Can’t do anything else to your mother, but I had to find a way to punish you for opening your worthless mouth. I told you and I told you, but you just had to go and blab all our secrets. You shouldn’t have done that, boy. You belong here… and here you’ll stay. And now she’ll pay the price for you thinking that you could ever get away from me. I hope you enjoy it. I know I’m going to.” He laid the flashlight on a table, propping it up so the beam of light landed on the face of the person cuffed to the post. 

Buffy.

XXXX

Buffy’s brow furrowed. “She’s just going to **give** it to him? For free? Can she afford to do that? What about her daughter? Shouldn’t she get the store?”

“Milly’s quite wealthy so she doesn’t need the money; the store is just a hobby. She told me that she wanted someone who loves books and literature as much as she does to have it and her daughter apparently has no interest in it at all. She’s a chef.”

“Well, Spike definitely loves books and literature, but she just met him and yeah, she hired him, but he hasn’t even worked yet and she’s already decided to give him the whole complete store? She’s one of those eccentric rich people that you hear about, isn’t she? The kind that leaves all their money to their cat or something. And he’s only seventeen. Yeah, he’ll be eighteen when he graduates, but what if he wants to go to college or whatever?”

Joyce chuckled. “Milly is a little eccentric, I guess, but she’s serious about this. She said she gets ‘feelings’ about people sometimes and that they’ve never let her down, so when she gets one she goes with it, and she got a feeling about Spike. She also said she’d understand if he didn’t want the store, and she knows he’s young, but she’s still going to offer it to him. Opportunities like this one don’t come along very often, so it’s something to think about anyway. He could still go to college if he wanted and the money from the store would go a long way in helping him pay for it.”

Buffy whispered, “Wow. That’s just… cool.” She smiled at Joyce then dug her phone out of her pocket. “I’ll make sure to be ready with this when she tells him so I can get his gob smacked look. It’s really cute.”

XXXX

He knew that speaking again was going to earn him more punishment, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind. It didn’t matter what happened to him. It never had. His pain and suffering were immaterial as long as he could protect those he loved. He’d endure anything to keep them safe, so he cleared his throat and spoke clearly. “Please, Da. Please let her go. I’ll stay here, willingly… I’ll do whatever you want… take whatever you want to do to me… just please let Buffy go.”

He was right about the speaking thing. James stomped over to stand in front of him, a hulking shadow framed by the light from the flashlight on the table across the room. Five strikes from the whip, each one accompanied by vivid descriptions of exactly what James was planning to do to Buffy… and letting her go was not on the menu. Two strikes across his belly, criss-crossing the one already there, one to each of his inner thighs, and the last… James stepped back to give the strike as much power as he could, but the vile and disgusting words pouring out of his mouth hurt far worse than the white-hot pain that boiled through Spike as the whip was laid across his cock with deadly accuracy. 

He didn’t think he’d ever stop screaming.

XXXX

Buffy was just tucking her phone back into her pocket when there was a loud scream and a crash from the living room. She spun and straight armed the kitchen door out of the way, slamming it back against the wall as she pounded through the dining room and skidded to a halt in the living room doorway.

Spike was curled into a ball on the floor between the couch and coffee table, shaking violently as his hands tore at his hair and face, his nails raking across the skin and leaving bloody scratches in their wake. He was muttering something low, almost too low to hear, but Buffy was sure she caught her name and the phrase ‘not her, please, Da, not her.’ She rushed over and dropped to her knees then reached out, laying her hand gently on his head. “Spike, you’re okay… it was just a dream… you’re okay.”

He stopped clawing at his face and tilted his head up to look at her. There were tears mingling with the blood on his cheeks as he bolted to his knees and reached for her, crushing her tightly against his chest. “He had you, Buffy. He was h..hurting you. B..because of me. It’s my fault.”

Buffy wrapped her arms around him and murmured against the shoulder that her face was smooshed into. “I’m fine, Spike. I’m here and nobody is hurting me. He won’t get me… he can’t. It was just a dream.”

Joyce had followed Buffy into the living room and stood behind her, watching as Spike shook his head. “Not a dream… he’ll get out… and if I’m not there then he’ll come for you. I can’t… I won’t let that happen.” He suddenly pushed Buffy back and jumped to his feet then darted for the front door.

Buffy stumbled to her feet and yelled, “Spike!” just as he wrenched open the front door and barreled through it, stumbling slightly on the porch before he got his footing and took off across the lawn.

Joyce grabbed Buffy’s arm as she started to follow. “Buffy! Where are you going?”

Buffy turned to her mother with anguish filled eyes and whispered, “Wherever he’s going.” She pulled her arm out of her mother’s grasp and bolted through the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of his platinum hair, but he was gone. The street was deserted as she slid to a halt in the middle of it and turned back to Joyce who was two steps behind her. “You heard what he said, right?”

Joyce nodded. “Something about being somewhere…”

Buffy finished the thought. “When his dad got out. He’s going home, isn’t he?”

“I think so.”


	25. Belong

Bruises  
Chapter 25 - Belong

Spike sprinted down the street, the sound of his pounding boots echoing off the surrounding buildings as he chanted over and over again. “Don’t hurt the girl. Hurt me… not her… never her.”

His house was on the other side of town, not too far when you’re driving, but far enough when you’re running. There was a painful stitch in his side and his breathing was ragged and harsh, his lungs burning as he stumbled up the steps to his front door. It was locked, but his fumbling fingers found the spare key on the top of the door frame and he let himself in, slamming the door behind him.

He didn’t notice anything different as he moved through the house toward the basement stairs, but then again, he wasn’t really looking. He was too focused on his goal – get down to the room and be ready and waiting when his father got home. He skimmed out of his clothes as he moved through the kitchen, only stopping long enough to fold them neatly and place them in their customary corner, his boots lined up precisely beside them.

He padded lightly down the stairs on his bare feet then moved quickly through the basement, skirting the pile of boxes then slipping through the partially open door to where he belonged.

XXXX

“Do you have his address, Mom? I have no idea where he lives.”

Joyce shook her head. “Not here. It’s on his paperwork, but I put that in the safe deposit box and I won’t be able to get to it until tomorrow. I never thought we’d need it, so I didn’t pay it much attention.”

Buffy pulled her phone out again and started dialing as she walked toward the house. “Angel? Was Spike’s address in his file?”

XXXX

Buffy dropped into the passenger seat of Angel’s Viper. “You didn’t have to come get me, Angel. I could’ve found it on my own.”

Angel shrugged as he peeled away from the curb. “No problem. And you might need some help… at least, I think you might. Gonna tell me what the hell is going on? Why do you think Spike went home?”

Buffy clutched the door handle as Angel took the corner just a little too fast. “He had a dream about his dad. Something about him coming after me… hurting me. I don’t know what else. He was really freaked out and he just left.”

“So what are we gonna do if he’s there?”

“Mom said to just try to keep him calm and make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. She’s picking up his psychiatrist, Miss Maclay, and they’ll both meet us there if that’s where he is.”

“And if he isn’t?”

Buffy shook her head with a pained sigh. “I don’t know, Angel. If he’s not there, then I have no idea where to look.”

XXXX

He’d forgotten about his new jewelry until the cuff clinked against the bracelet on his right wrist as he started to lock himself into it. He quickly fumbled the clasp open then took the necklace and the other bracelet off. He pulled his rings off and clumped all of it together in his palm as he tried to figure out what to do with it. The stuff had been expensive and he didn’t want to just toss it somewhere. No, Buffy should have it; maybe she could get her money back.

With that thought in mind, he moved quickly back up the stairs and into the kitchen. He unfolded his jeans and tucked the wad of jewelry deep into one of the pockets then refolded the garment and straightened the stack. He started to stand then looked down at the pile in horror. “Oh hell! If he sees those, he’ll think I want to leave… and then he’ll think of Buffy… mustn’t remind him of her… mustn’t. Got to get rid of the togs… but where?”

James almost exclusively used the kitchen door, so after checking that it was unlocked – didn’t want to make James any angrier than he already would be – Spike decided to put his clothes on the front porch. That way, if Buffy did happen to come by, she’d see them and hopefully take them with her when she left. He locked and dead bolted the front door to prevent anyone coming in that way then turned and moved toward the kitchen just as a bright wave of light washed across the wall from a car pulling into the driveway.

His heart leapt into his throat as a terrifying panic gripped him. He bolted for the stairs, only one thought burning through his mind, “Have to be ready when he gets to the room. Have to be ready… have to be ready.”

He flew down the stairs and burst into the room. His foot slid on the tarp and he fell to his knees, slamming his head into the post hard enough to make him see stars. He wobbled a little as he got back to his feet and backed himself up to the post, clutching it to keep himself upright. He stood still for a few seconds until the room had stopped spinning then reached up and snapped a cuff around his right wrist. It took some maneuvering, but he was finally able to slide his left wrist into the other cuff and press it against the post to make it latch. 

It clicked into place just as he heard the kitchen door open.

XXXX

Buffy stepped hesitantly through the door, searching the shadowy corners of the dark and quiet house. She wanted to call out for Spike, but not knowing what kind of state he was in, she didn't want to scare him, so she stayed silent.

Angel stepped in behind her and scanned the empty room then nodded toward the basement door and whispered, "Should we start down there?"

Buffy nodded and eased the door open then started down the stairs. The main part of the basement was dark, but there was a faint light shining from a half open door behind some boxes under the stairs. She slid carefully around the boxes, Angel following her and being just as careful not to bump anything, then peeked through the door. What she saw almost made her knees buckle. 

Spike was naked and cuffed to a bloodstained support post in the middle of a small room with his head down and his eyes closed. He was standing on a blue tarp that was splattered here and there with dried blood. Buffy could smell it and that, coupled with the cloying plastic smell of the tarp, made bile rise in the back of her throat. She swallowed it down then took a deep, steadying breath as she raised her hand and planted it in the middle of Angel's chest to stop him from moving forward. 

She turned to Angel and shook her head, pleading with her eyes – the fewer people that saw Spike in this state, the better. He nodded and took a step back as he dug his phone out of his pocket and held it up so she could see it. She glanced up at the ceiling then toward the stairs and he nodded again and slipped back around the boxes, dialing as he moved toward the stairs. Buffy waited until she heard the soft snick of the door at the top of the stairs then took another steadying breath and stepped into the room.

Spike had told her a lot of what his father had done to him, but seeing the – well… torture chamber was the only phrase that her mind could make fit – that Spike had spent the better part of a year in made her stomach clench. She struggled to keep down the popcorn and ice cream that was threatening to make an encore appearance as she stepped further into the room. This was so far beyond any of the training sessions that she'd gone to with her parents, and she felt totally out of her depth, but she had to do something.

Spike’s head had come up and he was watching her, his face a mixture of fear and humiliation as she stepped up in front of him. She opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to the punch, speaking in an urgent whisper as he glanced fearfully at the open door. "Please go, Buffy. You can't be here when he gets home. You have no idea what he'll do to you. I can take it. Please."

Buffy shook her head. "He's not coming home, Spike. He's in jail. He **can't** come home, I promise."

Spike squeezed his eyes shut as his hands clenched into fists. "Yes, he can. He will. And I have to be here when he does or he'll hurt you and it'll be my fault. I shouldn't have told, Buffy. He warned me, told me what would happen, but I did it anyway. I belong here; you don't, so please go."

"I can't leave you here, Spike, and you sure as hell don't **belong** here. Nobody **belongs** in a place like this." She turned and scanned the room, looking for the keys to the handcuffs. A small table in the corner held the instruments of Spike's torture and she moved toward it, wincing when she saw dried blood on a few of the items. Spike’s blood. The ring of small keys glinted at her from a corner of the table and she snatched it up them moved back to stand in front of Spike. She raised her hands toward the cuff on his right wrist, but the tears pouring down his face stopped her and she lowered them back to her sides. “Spike? You don’t have to be here. He won’t get me… he won’t.”

Spike shook his head miserably then leaned it back against the post and closed his eyes, his face etched with pain. “I saw it, Buffy. You were here, where I am now, and he was… God, I couldn’t bear it if that happened to you. Please, just go.”

Buffy tucked the keys into her pocket and reached out, gently laying her hands on Spike’s chest. “You had a nightmare, Spike. I know it felt real, but it wasn’t.” He squeezed his eyes together even tighter and clenched his jaw. Buffy whispered, “Can you tell me about it? Tell me what you saw? How did it start?”

Spike’s voice was so low that Buffy had to lean up a bit to hear him. “I was chained to the brick wall over there… you were here, but I didn’t know that at first. Da came down and was… whipping you. He told me all the things he was gonna do to you, Buffy. Horrible things. Worse than he’d ever done to me… and he was gonna make me watch while he did them.”

Buffy tapped her finger on Spike’s collar bone, prompting him to open his eyes and look at her. She nodded toward the surrounding walls. “No chains, Spike. No chains or bricks or anything anywhere. It was just a dream… a nightmare. Your father is in jail and that’s where he’s gonna stay. I can call Faith and have her tell you the same thing if it’ll help. There’s no way he’s going to come back here and absolutely no way in hell he’s ever gonna lay a finger on me. Or on you… never again, Spike. Never.”

Spike looked around the room, finally noticing the lack of a brick wall and restraints other than the cuffs bolted to the post. His head dropped in shame as he whispered, “Oh God, I’ve completely lost the plot, haven’t I? It was all in my head… all of it. Being here… all the things Da said… it was all me. I should be locked up… kept away from decent people so I don’t hurt anyone.”

“What makes you think you’re gonna hurt someone?”

His head came up fast enough that the back of it bounced off the post and he winced. “I’m barmy, aren’t I? Told you I was completely sack of hammers.” He rattled the cuffs against the post. “Doin’ this to myself just proves it. What kind of sane person does this? I could be a danger to others, Buffy. What if the next time I go off the rails I hurt you or Dawn? Or your Mum? All the things my dream Da was sayin’… all the horrible things he was gonna do to you… it was all me, Buffy. All of it came out of my sick brain! I should be locked up somewhere and the key tossed away.”

She reached out and gently cupped Spike’s cheek, lifting his head. “No, you shouldn’t. You’re not crazy, Spike. You just had a nightmare and you wigged out a little, that’s all. You didn’t hurt anyone except yourself.” She brushed her fingers over the large goose egg that was forming on his forehead then trailed them over the ragged scratches on his cheek. Someone cleared their throat from the doorway and Buffy looked over her shoulder, making sure to keep her body in front of Spike’s to shield him from whoever it was. She smiled faintly at Tara then turned back to Spike. “Where’s your clothes? Miss Maclay’s here and she wants to talk to you.”

Spike closed his eyes as his head drooped forward to rest on Buffy’s shoulder. “Front porch.” 

Buffy nodded and pulled out her phone, texting one handed to Angel. She sent the message then looked back over her shoulder again. “I’ll get him down and dressed. Do you want to talk in here or do you want me to bring him upstairs?”

Tara nodded toward the ceiling. “Upstairs will be fine. I’ll wait in the living room.”

Buffy nodded and reached into her pocket for the keys then quickly unlocked the cuffs. Spike’s arms came down and wrapped around her in a fierce hug that felt vaguely like a goodbye. Buffy slid her arms around Spike and held him close as Angel set Spike’s clothes and boots on the floor just inside the door then tapped the doorframe and went back upstairs. Spike squeezed her tight then let her go and stepped toward the pile of clothes. “I’ve got this, Buffy. You can go if you like, ‘fore my insanity rubs off on you.” He slipped into his jeans then tugged his shirt over his head. “After this little episode, I’m sure you’re havin’ loads of second and third and probably fourth thoughts ‘bout bein’ with a lunatic, so I won’t hold it against you if you scarper.” He stepped into his boots then leaned his forehead sadly on the doorframe. “Was nice while it lasted, though, thanks.” He stepped through the door and darted up the stairs before Buffy could even form a coherent thought.


	26. Kittens and Unicorns

Bruises  
Chapter 26 – Kittens and Unicorns

Buffy paced across the kitchen for what had to be the hundredth time. Angel looked up at her from his seat at the kitchen table and said quietly, “Buffy, just sit down. He’s fine and you’re making your mom and I dizzy.”

Joyce nodded then patted the empty chair to her right. “Angel’s right, honey. Wearing yourself out isn’t going to help Spike.”

Buffy dropped into the chair with a tired sigh. “He thinks I don’t want to be with him anymore because he thinks he’s crazy, Mom. He basically broke up with me downstairs.”

Joyce laid her hand on Buffy’s arm. “He was just upset and more than a little freaked out, Buffy, I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

Tara stepped quietly into the kitchen. “He didn’t, Buffy. Your mother’s right.”

Buffy jumped to her feet and motioned for Tara to take her chair as she stepped toward the kitchen door. “Is he okay? Can I see him now?”

Tara shook her head as she sat down. “I’ve given him a sedative so he might be a little loopy for a while and he probably won’t remember anything you say to him. Besides, I need to talk to all of you about my plans going forward. Spike is going to need your help, and please realize that I don’t normally discuss my patients with – for lack of a better term, civilians – but Spike’s case is a bit extreme and I think the more people he has on his side, the better off he’ll be.”

Angel glanced somewhat shyly at Tara. “Can you even do that? What about doctor – patient confidentiality?”

Tara looked Angel over then smiled. “You’re Seamus O’Connor’s son, aren’t you?”

Angel nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s a good question, Liam. And yes, confidentiality still stands. I’m not going to delve into details of anything Spike’s told me; I just want to discuss generalities of treatment.”

Buffy moved around the table and took the chair opposite Tara’s. “What do we need to do?”

Tara took a deep breath. “I’d expected something like this to happen; it sometimes does in children that have been removed from an abusive situation, and like I said – Spike’s case is a little more extreme than most. Being in a normal household and interacting with people that aren’t trying to hurt them starts to overwhelm them. They aren’t used to dealing with things like that and they may experience a psychotic break and try to get back to where they were. Even though they were being abused, that place feels safe and familiar – they know how to act and what to expect.”

Buffy twined her fingers together on the tabletop. “Then that’s why he came home? The nightmare freaked him out and he was just trying to get someplace familiar?”

Tara nodded. “Yes, I think so. Also, his feelings of self-worth are a little skewed. Intellectually, he knows he’s worthy of love and being cared about and taken care of, but subconsciously, he still believes all the horrible things his father told him.”

Buffy’s face contorted in disgust as her hands clenched into fists. “That son of a bitch… he is so lucky that I can’t get to him or he’d be feeling a lot of what he’s put Spike through.” She took a deep, calming breath and laid her hands flat on the table. “So, what can we do? What does Spike need?”

Tara reached up and tiredly pinched the bridge of her nose. “He wants to be hospitalized. He practically begged me to lock him up and keep him sedated, and I could – I have the authority to have him committed – but I think that would do more harm than good. He’s already spent enough time being held prisoner and putting him in a mental ward would just be more of the same – albeit without the beatings – but he still wouldn’t be able to make his own decisions or be responsible for himself. And those are things he needs.” She bent down and dug her iPad out of her bag then started tapping on it. “I’m going to need to see him every day for the next week or so. The sessions will be a couple of hours at least and he won’t be in any state of mind to concentrate on schoolwork so he’ll need to stay home from school, but I don’t want him to be alone.”

Joyce frowned. “I’ve got to be at the gallery, Rupert has work, and Buffy needs to go to school…”

Angel cleared his throat and said quietly, “I could hang out with him, if that’s all right. I’m suspended from school for another week and a half anyway. And I was going to start teaching him to fight…” At Tara’s look of alarm, Angel quickly continued, “Just some martial arts moves so he can defend himself. Some of the kids at school pick on him a lot and I thought it would help.”

Tara nodded slowly as she thought it over. “Actually, I think that would be very helpful. Right now, he doesn’t consider his body his own, he’s had no control over anything that’s happened to him and learning to defend himself could go a long way in convincing him that he’s in charge of what happens to his body… and that he’s allowed to prevent it from being damaged.”

Buffy suddenly felt sick. The ice cream and popcorn started knocking on the back of her throat as all of her interactions with Spike suddenly screamed across her mind. She clapped a hand to her mouth and Joyce looked at her in alarm. “Buffy? Are you all right?”

Buffy shook her head and dropped her forehead to the table. “No. No, I’m not. God, I’m as bad as everyone who’s ever hurt him.”

Tara threw a sharp glance at Joyce then looked at Buffy. “What do you mean?”

Buffy mumbled into the table top. “I never asked him… I pretty much just told him or did what I wanted… well, what I thought he’d want anyway… but I never **asked** if he wanted it. He probably thought he couldn’t tell me no… that it wasn’t allowed.”

Joyce whispered, “What are you talking about?”

Buffy didn’t raise her head, she just kept mumbling at the table. “Everything… the clothes, his hair, the sex stuff…”

Tara gasped loudly and threw another sharp glance at Joyce who just looked coolly back. “Yes, Miss Maclay, they’ve been intimate. They’re old enough.”

Tara’s lips pursed in a sour look. “Their age is not the issue here… if Buffy is saying what I think she’s saying…”

Buffy’s head came up off the table, her horror struck features making everyone gasp. “Are you asking if I forced him? Because yeah… I think I did. I didn’t mean to… and he never said no… but… if he isn’t able to… then… yeah. I forced Spike.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Loopy didn’t even begin to describe Spike as Buffy and Angel maneuvered him toward her mother’s Jeep. He was smiling brightly and talking to the stars, giving them names as he stumbled down the sidewalk toward the street. He suddenly turned and looked at Angel, throwing his balance off as he called out, “Adrian! There you are, you nit! Thought you’d gone!”

Angel gripped Spike’s arm a little tighter to keep him steady and mouthed to Buffy, “Adrian?”

Buffy smiled as Spike leaned close to Angel and whispered, “Where’d you put the kittens?”

Angel’s eyes went wide and he sputtered, “Uh… in the garage?”

That answer seemed to satisfy Spike and he nodded vigorously, throwing his balance off again. Buffy giggled and watched Angel brace himself against Spike’s weight until he stopped swaying. Spike’s arm came up and wrapped over her shoulders then he lowered his head and nuzzled against her hair. “And who are you, luv? What’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ hangin’ about with a ruffian like ol’ Adrian over there?”

Buffy smirked up at him then the smirk fell off her face as she recalled the conversation from the kitchen a little while ago. She schooled her features into a bland mask and whispered, “Uh… I’m Buffy.”

He nodded then leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper, “And who am I, pet?”

She leaned away from him and muttered, “Spike. You’re Spike and we’re taking you home.”

He nodded again then flicked his eyes toward a tree in the front yard. He muttered, “Don’t forget the unicorn,” and promptly passed out.

Angel caught him before he hit the ground and hefted him carefully over his shoulder. Buffy watched him carry Spike to the Jeep and lay him down across the back seat then she turned to Tara. “Um… is he supposed to be acting all… weird?”

Tara shook her head as she moved toward the Jeep. “No. It seems he’s having a bit of an abnormal reaction to the sedative I gave him.”

Buffy followed with a worried frown on her face. “Is he going to be okay?”

Tara leaned into the Jeep and lifted Spike’s eyelids, shining a small penlight into each eye, then took his pulse and watched him breathe for a minute. “Yes, his pulse and breathing are normal and his pupils are equal and reactive, so I think the drug just made him a little bit high. Just get him to bed and he should be fine when he wakes up tomorrow.”

Buffy nodded and looked at the unconscious blond sprawled across the back seat. “Okay. Anything else I should do? Should I stay with him or leave him alone?”

Tara stepped back and considered the distraught girl that was standing outside the Jeep with her arms wrapped tightly around her torso as she worried her bottom lip. “You could stay near him, but I wouldn’t touch him unless he asks you to. Let him decide what he wants to happen.”

Buffy nodded miserably. “Okay. He pretty much broke up with me anyway, so I won’t force myself on him anymore.”

Tara gently laid her hand on Buffy’s arm. “He didn’t break up with you, Buffy; he was just giving you an out. He thinks that his behavior tonight and his ‘bloody boat load of baggage’ will scare you off anyway, so he was trying to make it easier on you. And now that I’ve thought about it… things he said tonight… I don’t think you forced yourself on him, but if it’ll make it easier for you, then let him lead. Let him make the first move. He needs you, Buffy, whether he realizes it or not.”


	27. Big Whoop

Bruises  
Chapter 27 – Big Whoop

Spike swam slowly back to consciousness, vaguely becoming aware of the sunlight streaming through the curtains as it warmed the side of his face. He opened his eyes, blinking at the light, then turned his head away and curled up on his side. He felt something mushy moving under his shoulder and fished out a warm gel ice pack. His fingers easily found the lump on his forehead and he winced as he pressed lightly against it. His head felt fuzzy and odd as his eyes fell on a slumbering form in a chair next to the door. He lifted his head slightly to get a better look and blinked several times, trying to moisten his contacts enough to clear his vision.

Buffy was sitting slumped slightly to the side, her head resting on the shoulder that was being propped up by the edge of his dresser. Her hands were clasped together in her lap as she slept in what looked like a very uncomfortable position. Spike sat up, groaning as the room spun a little bit before anchoring itself again. He looked down at himself, noticing that he was still fully clothed except for his boots and quietly cleared his throat. “Buffy?”

Buffy jerked then groaned in pain as her hand came up to massage her stiff neck. She looked over at Spike and blushed slightly as she whispered, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” He looked from her uncomfortable straight-backed chair to the acres of empty space next to him in the bed then back at her slightly redder face. “Yeah… um…”

His head dropped as he squeezed his eyes shut and whispered, “No, it’s all right. I understand. Have to keep watch on the lunatic, but don’t want to get too close. It’s fine. ‘M sorry I frighten you so much.” He stood up, motioning toward the bathroom without lifting his head as he slipped right back into his trying to be invisible stance. “I’m gonna go use the loo, but don’t worry, not gonna try to off myself or anything, so you can go if you like. Don’t want to be any more trouble so I’ll just stay in here and try to keep out of everyone’s way ‘til I can get Mr. Pryce to arrange a transfer to wherever they send people like me.”

Buffy winced at the hurt and dejection on his face as he turned away from her and started plodding toward the bathroom. “Spike, no… wait. That’s not it at all. I don’t want you to leave and I’m not scared of you and God, you’re not crazy! I just… I don’t want to force you like I’ve been doing. I’m trying to give you a choice.”

He stopped and turned to face her, his eyes bright with tears. “Force me? Force me to do what?”

Her cheeks burned with shame as she dropped her head. “Everything. Your hair, the clothes, the s..sex stuff. Everything. I never once asked you if any of it was okay. I just…”

His voice was raspy and rough as he whispered, “What are you talking about, Buffy? Who’s put these ideas into your head?”

“Tara. She told me how you don’t think that your body is yours, and you don’t think you can say no, that you just have to do whatever or take whatever’s done to you, and I didn’t ask… not once.” 

Suddenly he was on his knees in front of her, clasping her hands in his. “You didn’t force me to do anything, Buffy, and I won’t have you believing that about yourself.”

She looked down at him, her face a mask of barely concealed self disgust. “But I never asked! I just did what I wanted, and you just let me because that’s how your father trained you… you didn’t have a choice!”

Spike gripped her hands tightly and looked up at her, his face earnest and sincere. “Buffy. You. Didn’t. Force. Me. I swear. Yeah, you might be a bit bossy, but if I really hadn’t wanted to do something, I would’ve told you no. Remember how I didn’t haul all that stuff up to Mum’s room even though you insisted?”

Buffy nodded and then countered with an instance of her own. “Yeah, okay… but remember the duster? You tried to argue me out of it, but I just rolled right over you and got it anyway.”

Spike smiled faintly. “All right, I’ll give you that one. You did force the duster, but the rest of it? The hair – no, I wouldn’t have chosen this look if I’d been left to my own devices – but you were right about it. And the ‘sex stuff?’ Buffy, what bloke in his right mind would refuse a beautiful woman that wants to have her way with him? I mean, honestly.”

Buffy smiled back, somewhat triumphantly. “So… you admit that you’re in your right mind? Because a person can’t be crazy and in their right mind at the same time.”

Spike blinked then a slow smile lit his face. “Why you cheeky little… all right… you got me.” He pressed his forehead to Buffy’s hands and whispered, “I apologize for my behavior last night, Buffy. Please forgive me.”

Buffy turned her hand and slipped it under his chin, raising his face to hers. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Spike. You didn’t do anything wrong. You had a nightmare and you wigged out. Big whoop. I think after everything you’ve been through that you’ve banked a little wigging out time.” 

Spike started to smile then his lips turned down into a frown. “But what about my dream? What about all the disgusting things my brain came up with? The things my Da said he was gonna do to you? That came from me, Buffy. Every last bit of it.” He reached up and rapped his knuckles hard against the side of his head. “All those sick, sadistic things came from in here.” He dropped his gaze back to her knees. “How can you even stand to look at me knowin’ I can think of things that awful?”

Buffy lifted his face again. “It was your subconscious, Spike. You have no control over what your subconscious does, that’s why dreams are so weird sometimes. I’ve dreamt that I had superpowers and went around staking vampires. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna start sticking pieces of wood into random people when I’m awake. I know you’d never hurt me or anyone else. I trust you and I believe in you.” Her eyes drifted to his lips and she whispered, “Can I kiss you now?”

Spike smiled and lifted himself up, settling his hips between Buffy’s knees. “You don’t have to ask, kitten.”

Her eyes tore themselves away from his lips and settled on his eyes. “Yes, I do. I want you to have a choice, a chance to say no if you want. Tara told me to wait, to let you make the first move, but it’s so hard when you’re here with all the youness of you, but you **can** say no to me, Spike. If you don’t want me to touch you, you can say no. I’m not gonna promise that I won’t get upset about it if you do, but you have the right. It’s your body and you’re in control of what happens to it. And if I get upset it doesn’t mean that I don’t still love you. Okay?”

He leaned forward and barely brushed his lips across hers. “Okay. From here on in, unless I indicate otherwise, please assume you have my consent. You may touch me as you wish, anytime you wish.” He pulled back slightly and smiled. “And may I have your consent as well? May I touch you?”

Buffy’s smile lit up her whole face as she wrapped her arms around his neck and scooted forward in her chair, wrapping her legs around his waist. “Yes. You have my consent. Touch me all you want.”

Spike didn’t have to be told twice. He dove for Buffy’s mouth and took her lips in a heated kiss as his hands slid down to her hips. He pulled her tight against the burgeoning hardness in his jeans and she moaned into his mouth as he rubbed against her center. Her fingers threaded into the short hair on the back of his neck and pulled him closer as his mouth went to work on her sensitive neck. 

His fingers had slipped under her shirt and were trekking over the bare skin of her stomach toward the mounds of her cotton covered breasts when a female voice called out from downstairs, “Buffy? Come on, we’re gonna be late!”

Buffy reluctantly pulled her lips away from that spot just below Spike’s ear that made him voice the most delicious sounds and turned her head, scowling at the doorway. “Cordy. Crap. I’ve gotta go.” She reached up and covered Spike’s ears then shouted at the door. “Be right there, Cordy!”

Spike followed her gaze as she dropped her hands from his ears, his eyes tinged with a bit of curiosity as he panted lightly. “Be right where?”

Buffy sighed, “Cheerleading practice. I’ve missed the last two and we’ve got a game tomorrow, so I really need to be at this one.”

Spike hung his head. “Sorry, luv. Didn’t mean to keep you from your responsibilities.”

Buffy lifted his face to hers and planted a light kiss on his lips. “You didn’t… okay, you kinda did, but it’s okay. I only have to be there because I’m head cheerleader and everything, not because I need the practice.” She smirked. “Yeah… I’m just that good.” Spike chuckled as she reached up and gently trailed her fingers over the bruised lump on his forehead. “How’s your head? That looks like it hurts.”

He shrugged. “It does, but no worse than I’ve had before. I’ll be fine, pet. Thanks for the ice pack, by the way. I assume that was you?” She nodded and he leaned in for another kiss. “Can’t wait to see you in action, pet. Bet you’re beautiful – like poetry in motion.” He reached back and unwrapped Buffy’s legs from around his waist then got to his feet. “Just let me pop into the loo for a moment and I’ll be ready to go.”

Buffy frowned. “Um…”

Spike’s shoulders drooped and a flash of hurt crossed his face. “Oh… right. I’ll just stay here then, shall I? Don’t want to impose or get in the way.” He turned and started for the bathroom and Buffy jumped to her feet, snagging his arm before he’d managed the third step. 

“No, it’s not that. I’d love for you to be there even though you’d probably get bored watching a bunch of girls jumping around…” Spike’s smirk made Buffy giggle just a bit. “Okay, maybe not, but anyway, you’ve already got plans.”

His eyebrow quirked. “I have?”

“Yeah, Angel’s coming over in a little while and he’s gonna take you to your appointment with Tara if I’m still at practice.” Buffy released his arm and smacked herself in the forehead. “God! I’m doing it again!”

Spike tilted his head in confusion. “Doin’ what, kitten?”

“Telling you instead of asking you. God, I’m horrible! Okay, you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. I can call Angel and…”

Spike grinned as he turned and silenced her in the quickest way possible, with a kiss. “Buffy, calm down, it’s all right. You’re not horrible and I’m fine with Peaches callin’ round, okay? What time is my appointment with Miss Maclay?”

Buffy gave him a relieved smile. “Five.”

Spike glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “It’s barely gone eight. You’re gonna be at practice all day?”

Buffy shrugged. “Possibly. We’re doing a pretty hard routine for halftime and a few of the girls are a little weak on their moves, so it might take a while to get them ironed out.”

“But nine hours?”

Buffy nodded with a shrug. “Yeah. Last year we practiced for twelve hours straight before the homecoming game. Cheerleading’s not as easy as it looks, you know.” She leaned up and gently kissed him. “I’ll hurry them as much as I can. Don’t want to be away from you that long.”

Cordelia shouted up the stairs again, “Buffy! Come on!”

Buffy flinched a little and turned toward the door. “OKAY! Just keep your panties on, Cordy! Geez!”

Spike chuckled and pulled Buffy into a quick hug, planting a light kiss on her lips. “All right, see you later, pet. Be careful at practice, yeah?”

Buffy squeezed him tight and murmured against his lips. “I will. Love you, Spike.” She pulled away and started for the door, glancing at Spike over her shoulder as she stepped through.

He smiled brightly at her, “Love you, too, Buffy.” His smile got wider when her face lit up at his words just before she disappeared into her room. 

She popped out a few seconds later with a large gym bag slung over her shoulder and stopped just outside his door as she swept her hair back into a pony tail. “Mom and Dad took Dawn to LA for her ballet recital, but my cell number’s on the wall by the phone in the kitchen. Angel has it, too, so call if you need anything, okay?”

Spike nodded and she continued on. He listened to her move quickly down the stairs and heard the front door open although Cordy’s annoyed sigh of, “God, it’s about time!” almost drowned it out. Her squeak of, “Angel! Hi!” made him grin as he moved toward his door and poked his head out. 

He heard Angel mumble something in reply, but was too far away to make out the words. He did hear Buffy say, “He’s upstairs in Faith’s old room. See you later, Angel,” then the sound of Angel’s feet on the stairs blended with the shutting of the front door.

He stepped out into the hall just as Angel stepped off the stairs. “Mornin’, Peaches. What brings you round so early?”


	28. Intractable

Bruises  
Chapter 28 – Intractable

“Mornin’, Peaches. What brings you round so early?”

Angel smiled as he followed Spike back into his bedroom. “Buffy asked me to come over while she was at practice.”

Spike stopped three feet from the bathroom door and turned around. “Why?” Angel’s mouth opened then closed and he got a pained look on his face. Spike sighed, “Oh. I need a babysitter now, is that it? Can’t risk leavin’ me alone ‘cause I might do somethin’ crazy?”

Angel shook his head. “No, it’s not that you might do something crazy, Miss Maclay just said we shouldn’t leave you alone because…” He trailed off with an uncomfortable look on his face.

“I might do somethin’ crazy. It’s all right, Peaches. I don’t think I’m gonna do anything, but I appreciate the concern all the same.” He stepped toward the bathroom again then glanced back over his shoulder. “Be right out. Make yourself at home.”

Angel called after him, “You want to start learning to fight?”

Spike’s head popped back through the bathroom door and he nodded. “Could do.” He took in Angel’s attire for the first time, sweat pants and a wife-beater tank top. He also had a backpack slung over one shoulder. “I don’t have a kit like yours, though. Just denims.”

Angel nodded as he slipped the bag off his shoulder. “Buffy told me, so I brought you a couple pairs of sweats that I outgrew. They might be a little big, but they should work.” He dug around in the bag for a minute then tossed a bundle of cloth at Spike.

Spike caught the bundle and ducked back into the bathroom, coming out a few minutes later with his damp hair slicked back and a pair of maroon sweats sitting low on his hips. “Bit big, but if I…” He pulled the string in the waistband tight and tied it in a knot. “There. That should work.”

“Have you had breakfast yet?”

Spike paused in pulling a plain black t-shirt out of his dresser then shook his head, mumbling as he tugged the shirt over it. “No. Just woke up a few moments ago.” 

Angel backed toward the door. “Well, we’d better get something into you. Don’t want to train on an empty stomach.”

Spike took a step then hesitated, nervously fingering the hem of his t-shirt. “Um…”

Angel stopped and looked at Spike questioningly, “Um… what?”

Spike’s face turned a little bit pink as he dropped his gaze to the floor. “Just not sure I’m allowed, is all.”

“Allowed to do what? Eat?”

Spike shook his head. “No. I know I’m allowed to eat, but I’ve only ever eaten when members of the family are here. I’ve not been given permission to go rummagin’ round their kitchen on my own and I don’t want to inadvertently eat somethin’ that wasn’t meant for me. They’ve been more than kind, takin’ me in and all, and I don’t want to balls that up.”

Angel shrugged and turned toward the door. “I don’t think they’d mind, Spike, but if you want, we can hit this little diner I know. They have awesome food.” He stopped in the doorway and turned around to see Spike still standing in front of his dresser. “You coming?”

The tips of Spike’s ears were a bright pink as he considered the floor just in front of his feet. “Don’t have any dosh. Can’t pay for my meal.” He shrugged then took a deep breath and painted an unconcerned look onto his face. “No worries, though. I’ve gone without eatin’ before… I can again.”

Angel smirked. “I don’t know how things work in England, but over here when somebody invites somebody else out to eat, the first somebody pays. It’s kind of a rule.”

Spike looked up at Angel with a small smile. “That so? S’pose that means I’m your date then, does it?”

Angel laughed. “No. A – I’m not gay. And B – the last thing I need is Buffy coming after me for trying to take her boyfriend. She may be small, but she’s kind of scary.”

Spike burst out laughing as he nodded. “That she is. Wouldn’t want her cross with me, that’s for sure.”

“So… you two ok now?”

Spike’s head tilted. “Meaning what, exactly?”

Angel shrugged. “She said you broke up with her last night.”

Spike cringed. “Yeah, guess I did at that… just didn’t want her saddled with a lunatic, you know? Thought I’d give her the chance to get away from me.” He took a deep breath and put a smile on his face. “She set me straight, though. Kept tellin’ me I wasn’t barmy…”

Angel broke in, “She’s right, you’re not.”

Spike nodded with a small smirk. “All right, I get it… don’t have to keep beatin’ me ‘bout the head. You two are the most stubborn individuals I’ve ever come across, you know that?” 

Angel shrugged. “Yep. Ready to go?”

Spike glanced down at his bare feet then looked over at Angel’s sneakers. “Um… don’t have trainers, either. Just boots.”

Angel chuckled. “Won’t need shoes for training and your boots will be fine for eating breakfast.”

Spike nodded then fished a pair of socks out of his dresser and sat down on the bed to lace up his boots. He stood up and caught sight of himself in the full-length mirror mounted on the wall next to the bathroom door, black t-shirt, maroon sweats and Docs. He barked laughter, “I look a picture. Anybody sees me like this, my image is gonna go right out the window.”

Angel smirked. “Well, you won’t have to worry about seeing anybody you know at the diner. It’s small and not too many people know about it, at least nobody from school does… but my dojo… there’s classes all day and a few of the football players will probably be there.” Spike’s fingers started twitching at his t-shirt again and Angel hurried to continue, “But we could train somewhere else…”

Spike nodded toward the bedroom window. “Buffy has a large garden… would that work?”

Angel’s brow furrowed. “Garden? You want to fight in the middle of corn plants and pumpkins?”

Spike barked laughter again. “No, you nit. Garden is proper English for yard. Buffy has a large back yard.”

Angel grinned. “Right, you just might not want to say that to her face.”

Now Spike’s brow furrowed. “Why not? It’s a perfectly accurate statement.”

Angel laughed as he stepped out into the hallway, “Because that’s American slang. Basically you just said that Buffy has a big ass.”

Spike grumbled under his breath as he followed Angel down the stairs. “Bloody Americans, I’ll never understand this country.”

XXXX

Spike clung to the door handle with both hands, his knuckles white as Angel screeched around another corner. “Bloody hell! Who taught you to drive? Evel Knievel?”

Angel laughed and slowed down a fraction. “I haven’t jumped over anything, Spike, I think you mean Jeff Gordon.”

Spike shot him a glare and lifted one hand long enough to throw up two fingers before he clutched at the door handle again, muttering under his breath, “And Buffy thinks she’s a bad driver. She’s a little old granny compared to you.”

Angel laughed then shrugged. “Hey, I like to drive fast. Do you know how to drive?” 

Spike shook his head, starting to relax a little as Angel dropped to somewhere in the same country as the actual speed limit. “No. Didn’t need to learn in London – used public transportation – and never had the chance to here.”

Angel down-shifted fluidly and the engine growled as he shot the small car into the parking lot of the diner without making use of the brakes. “I could teach you.”

Spike eyed him as Angel steered and clutched and shifted and braked, gliding the car to a smooth stop inches from the small building. He shook his head as Angel cut the engine. “Not sure I could figure all that out. Didn’t know driving was a full body endeavor. Both hands and both feet working in concert? Seems immensely complicated.”

Angel chuckled. “I wouldn’t teach you in the Viper, but I have an old DeSoto – automatic transmission – so you’d only have to learn to steer and brake to start out. Once you’ve got the hang of that, then we could work on learning to drive stick.” 

Angel chuckled again and Spike looked at him curiously. “What?”

“Driving stick. Another slang term. Lesbians don’t drive stick.”

Spike’s head tilted as he thought about that then he grinned. “Means gettin’ it on with a bloke, yeah?”

Angel nodded. “Yeah.”

“So, if I don’t want anybody thinkin’ we’re poofters then I shouldn’t mention that you’re teachin’ me to drive stick?”

Angel burst into laughter as he climbed out of the car. “No, that might give some people the wrong idea. I like you, Spike… just not like that.”

The ding of a small bell mounted over the door heralded their entrance into the diner and they headed toward the booth in the back corner. Angel snagged one of the laminated menus from the pile on the counter, nodding at the waitress as she poured coffee for a man sitting at the counter. “Morning, April.”

She smiled over at him. “Morning, be with you in a minute.”

Angel dropped into the seat and slid the menu across the table as Spike sat down. “The biscuits and gravy is the best thing they’ve got here, but the steak and eggs are pretty good, too.”

Spike looked over the menu then peeked up at Angel. “Have you already eaten? ‘Cause I don’t want…”

Angel nodded. “Yeah, I ate at home, but I can eat again. I pretty much eat my weight every day. You wouldn’t believe my metabolism. My mom jokes that they’re gonna have to take out a second mortgage on the house just to feed me.” He motioned toward the menu. “Get whatever you want. Everything’s pretty good.”

April stepped up next to their table and set a coffee cup down in front of Angel then filled it up as she looked at Spike. “You want coffee, hun?”

Spike looked up at her. “Do you have tea?”

April nodded. “Iced, sweet, or raspberry?”

Spike’s brow furrowed. “Oh… um… coffee will be fine, thanks. Sugar?”

April smirked as she plunked a coffee cup down in front of Spike and filled it to the brim. “Don’t usually get so fresh with new customers, hun.”

Spike stuttered, “P..pardon, ma’am?”

Angel snorted, “You called her ‘Sugar.’”

Spike’s face went beet red as he dropped his gaze to the trembling menu clasped in his fingers. “My apologies, ma’am; I was inquiring if you **had** sugar… you know, for the coffee. I didn’t mean to offend.”

April laughed as she reached over to another table and snagged a sugar dispenser. “You’re adorable… **Sugar**.” 

She walked back over toward the counter and Angel burst out laughing, “That’s it. From now on, your name’s Sugar.”

Spike’s face was still red as he looked at Angel. “And what does she call you?”

April stepped back up to their table with a small note pad in her hand. “You want your usual, Sweet Pea?”

Spike’s laughter rang out through the diner.

XXXX

“Don’t swing your fist out; push it from your shoulder. Try again.” Spike stepped forward with his right foot and snapped the left side of his body forward as he pistoned his left fist hard into the pad on Angel’s hand. Angel staggered back a step and smiled. “See? You have a lot more power that way because you put your weight behind it.”

They’d been working for just about three hours and Spike was picking things up quickly. He was lean and wiry and had good balance which would make him a formidable fighter once he learned the moves. Angel had already taught him how to fall correctly and how to sweep an attacker’s legs out from under him then kip back to his feet. Angel had grumbled out loud, but secretly he’d been pleased that Spike could do it faster than he could.

They’d also practiced throws. Spike had been skeptical that he could throw Angel, considering the difference in their sizes, and had been pleasantly surprised when Angel had gone flying over his shoulder to land in a heap at his feet. Once he’d seen it work, he’d quickly figured out the physics behind the moves and had rapidly mastered tossing Angel around like a volleyball.

Angel raised the pad. “One more time then I need a break. My hand is tingling.”

Spike plowed his fist into the pad again then grinned as Angel stumbled back another couple of steps. “Think I’ve got it, Peaches.”

Angel nodded and slipped the pad off his hand then flexed his fingers a few times. “Just remember that it’s gonna hurt when you hit something other than this pad. If you hit bone, you’re probably gonna break a few of your knuckles, so aim low for the gut if you can. Knock the wind out of them and while they’re trying to get their breath back, you can either get away or put yourself in a more defensible position. Having a wall at your back is a good thing if you can find one.” He dropped down into the grass and leaned back on his hands. “I’ll teach you some throat punches, too. Those work well to disable them long enough to get away.”

Spike nodded and sat down next to Angel, then lay back in the grass and folded his hands under his head. “I appreciate you helping me, Angel.”

Angel lay back in the same position, shrugging as he tucked his hands under his head. “No problem. I like teaching. It’s what I want to do, but my dad wants me to go to law school just like he did… after my professional football career is over, of course.”

Spike turned his head. “You don’t want to play football?”

Angel kept his eyes trained on the clouds floating overhead. “Not really. I mean, it’s fun and everything, I just don’t see it as a career choice. Don’t want to be a lawyer, either. I want to open my own dojo, but I’ll probably end up playing college ball and if I’m any good, I’ll be drafted into the NFL. That would make my dad happier than a kid in a candy store. He was on that road, but he blew out his knee and that was that.”

Spike nodded. “And now he wants to relive his glory days vicariously through you.”

Angel sighed. “Yeah, and I don’t see any way around it. If I tell him I don’t want to go to college, his head will probably explode and he’ll cut me off. I’ve got some money saved up, but not enough to open a business.”

“What ‘bout your Mum? She on the football-lawyer bandwagon as well?”

“Might as well be. She agrees with anything my dad says like she doesn’t have a mind of her own. I haven’t told her about what I want because it’s pointless.”

Spike turned his gaze back to the clouds. “If it were me, I’d tell her. Mums can be quite intractable when it comes to their children… she might surprise you.”


	29. Workout

Bruises  
Chapter 29 – Workout

“They’re here, Cordy, I promise. Angel texted me that they were here instead of at Angel’s dojo so just come on!”

The girls crept silently through the house and peeked out the window in the back door, both their mouths dropping open as they took in the view. Spike and Angel were shirtless and barefoot, their skin glistening with sweat over flexing muscles as they circled each other on the lawn. Spike threw a punch that Angel ducked, but as Angel was spinning around to get behind the smaller boy, Spike dropped down and swept Angel’s legs from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. Again.

Angel lay on his back in the trampled grass, laughing as he held up his hands. “I give. You win. I’m done for the day. Don’t think I can hit the ground one more time.”

Spike stood panting as he bent at the waist and propped his hands on his knees. “God, it’s ‘bout bloody time. I’m knackered.” He caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and smirked as he watched Buffy and Cordelia slink out onto the porch and duck down behind the large BBQ.

Spike turned his back to the porch, making sure to flex his back muscles as he reached down and offered Angel his hand, whispering out of the corner of his mouth, “We’ve got a couple of Peepin’ Toms over on the porch, Peaches. Stand up and flex for ‘em… give ‘em a bit of a show.”

Angel’s eyes flew to the porch, but Spike stepped in front of him and blocked his view. “Just act like you don’t know.”

Angel whispered, “Who is it?”

“Buffy and Cordelia. Guess practice let out a little early.” Angel’s face went a bright red as he turned his back and bent to snatch up his shirt. A loud gasp from the porch made him shoot back to an upright position and Spike started laughing. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag now.” He turned to the porch. “You birds might as well come out… know you’re there.”

Buffy stepped out and moved quickly across the lawn, wrapping Spike in a tight hug. Spike slid his arms tentatively around her and murmured, “’M all sweaty, luv.”

She nodded against his neck, nipping lightly at his salty skin. “I know. Salty goodness.”

Cordelia was standing nervously on the porch and Spike whispered to Angel, who was standing nervously on the lawn clutching his shirt, “Go talk to her, you nonce.”

Angel turned away so Cordy couldn’t see his face and whispered, “But what about what we talked about at the Bronze?”

Spike’s head tilted slightly then he smiled, “Just Buffy and me here, so if she shoots you down, we’ll be the only witnesses.”

Buffy let up on her Spike neck nibbling to smile at Angel. “She’s not gonna shoot you down, Angel. She’s the reason we quit practice early… she wanted to get over here before you guys left for the hospital.” She went back to nibbling on Spike’s neck as she murmured, “And I couldn’t be away from you for one more minute. Don’t know how I’m gonna get through a whole school day without seeing you.”

Spike smiled, “Could maybe talk Peaches here into droppin’ me at school long enough to have lunch with you, since he’s apparently gonna be my sitter next week.”

Buffy raised her head and beamed a smile at him. “That would be perfect. I can get my Spike smoochies fix.” She turned to Angel. “So, can you?”

Angel jerked his gaze to the two blondes looking at him expectantly. “What? Can I what?” 

Spike chuckled and nodded toward the porch. “We’ll fill you in later… just go.”

Angel looked slightly constipated as he whispered, “What should I say?”

Buffy let go of Spike and took Angel’s arm, practically perp-walking him across the lawn. She stopped at the edge of the porch and smiled at Cordy. “Cordelia Chase, this is Angel O’Connor. Angel… Cordy. Please feel free to talk amongst yourselves. I have to take my boyfriend upstairs to get cleaned up. See you at the game tomorrow.”

Spike had followed them across the lawn, stopping to snag his t-shirt on the way and Buffy took his hand and pulled him up the steps. “Later, Peaches. Nice to see you again, Cordelia.”

They both ignored him, too lost in each other’s eyes to pay him any attention, and he chuckled as Buffy pulled him through the door into the house. They stumbled through Spike’s bedroom door joined at the lips and Buffy mumbled, “Shower?”

Spike nodded. “You can go first, luv.”

Buffy stepped back with a wicked twinkle in her eye. “Not what I meant.” She tried to tug Spike’s sweats down, but he’d fastened them too tightly and she huffed as she went to work on the knot. “Stupid pants.”

Spike’s eyes went wide as he watched her tongue poke out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. “Kitten?”

Buffy looked up at him as she continued to work on the knot, finally getting it to let go. “Do you want to take a shower with me?”

His knees turned to Jell-O and he clutched her shoulders to keep himself upright. “Yes. God yes.”

She smiled and took his hand as he stepped out of his sweats then led him to the bathroom. She turned on the water and laid out two towels then turned to face him and, without preamble, tugged her tank top and sports bra over her head in one fluid motion. His eyes bugged out as she shimmied out of her shorts and thong and stepped up in front of him, not quite touching. Her eyes traveled down over his chest and belly to the hard cock jutting out in front of him and she raised her hand, letting it hover just above him. “Can I?”

He swallowed thickly and nodded, unable to get his voice to work, then his eyes rolled back in his head and he groaned as her small hand closed around him and started stroking. She reached for his hand and lifted it, placing it lightly on her breast. “Touch me, Spike. Please. Need you.”

He lifted his other hand and palmed her breasts, pulling and tugging at the nipples as she continued to work him. Her unoccupied hand slid up his thigh and gently cupped his balls, squeezing and massaging as her strokes on his shaft sped up. When his sack started to tighten and draw up she stopped and Spike whimpered loudly. His eyes fixed on hers, the pupils blown wide as he panted with need. “Buffy… God… so close.”

She gently gripped his arm and turned him toward the shower. “I’ll finish in there. Less mess that way.” He nodded dumbly and stepped into the tub behind her, trying to wait patiently as she adjusted the water temperature. After what seemed like ages, she turned back to him and wrapped her hand around him again, only this time it was slick with soap suds. Spike moaned loudly and leaned back on the wall as she leisurely stroked him. His hands drifted to her breasts again and he kneaded the soft mounds as her strokes sped up, then he was clenching and shouting as he released in long spurts all over her belly.

He dropped his hands, panting harshly as he recovered, then he opened his eyes. She was smiling up at him, a look of pure love on her face as she twirled her fingers through the milky substance coating her stomach. Spike murmured, “Your turn,” as he turned them around so she was leaning back against the wall. He dropped to his knees in the tub and lifted one leg over his shoulder, admonishing her to ‘hang on to something’ as he dove for her slick folds.

She tried to gasp and moan at the same time as his tongue delved deep into her and her hands scrabbled around the shower stall trying to find purchase as he sucked her engorged nubbin into his mouth. Her left hand locked around the shower curtain rod in a death grip and her right hand latched onto the small soap shelf as she felt two fingers enter her. They curled just right and she wailed, throwing her head back as she thrust against the face buried between her legs.

Downstairs, Cordy and Angel looked up at the bathroom window that was just above their heads… again. Cordy giggled, “Ok, that one was definitely Buffy. I don’t think Spike can make his voice go that high.”

Angel’s face was bright red as he nodded and mumbled, “Uh… yeah. Maybe we should go?”

Cordelia stepped close and ran her finger down Angel’s sweat-slicked chest, smiling at the groan she heard as her nail skimmed over his nipple. “Go where?”

Angel backed up and took a few deep breaths, trying to get himself under control. “Um… Cordy… um… no offense or anything, and you can slap me if I’m out of line, but I don’t want this to be just a one-time thing… another notch on your bedpost.”

Cordelia smiled and stepped close to Angel again, laying her hands on his chest as she leaned up and whispered in his ear. “Me neither, and contrary to popular belief, I’m not a slut. I’m actually a virgin and I’ve just been waiting for you to wake up and smell the freaking coffee.” She dropped back to the porch then shook her head at his loopy grin. She leaned down and stuffed his shoes into his backpack then picked it up and took his hand. She led him around the house and considered the Viper parked in Buffy’s driveway for a second then smirked and led him to her Mercedes. “I’d better drive. You don’t look like you have any blood left circulating in your brain. We’ll come back for your car later… much later.”

XX  
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XX

Spike slipped the end of his belt through his belt loop then looked up as Buffy breezed into his room, running a brush through her damp hair. “Ready to go?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Where are we going, exactly?”

She tossed the brush onto his bed then stepped close and wrapped her arms around his middle, resting her head on his chest. “First, I thought we’d go get something to eat; I’m starving after our little workout in the shower. Then we could go visit your Mom for a while until it’s time for your appointment, if that’s okay.” She leaned back and looked up at Spike’s blush heated face then lifted up on her tip-toes and planted a kiss on his lips. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, Spike. I had a good time… a really, really good time. Didn’t you?”

He nodded as the images of their ‘little workout’ played across his brain again. They’d continued to pleasure each other until the water had started to cool and had ended up soaping and rinsing at lightning speed under the freezing spray. Then they’d tumbled out of the shower, trembling from the cold and laughing madly as they’d toweled off. Another bout of mutual pleasuring on the rug in front of the tub had warmed them both and they’d lain there wrapped in each other’s arms, sated and spent until Buffy’s phone had beeped. It had been a text from Willow asking if they were going to be at the Bronze later. Buffy had texted back that they might, then had climbed slowly to her feet, smiling at Spike’s sleepy expression and wild curls.

Buffy leaned up and kissed Spike again, murmuring against his lips. “Earth to Spike. Anybody home? You okay with that?”

Spike shook himself out of his reverie and smiled. “Yeah… where’d you want to eat?” 

Buffy shrugged as she started for the door. “Wherever, just as long as the food’s good, I’m easy.”

Spike smirked as they started down the stairs. “Well, I know this diner…”


	30. Poor Marks

Bruises  
Chapter 30 – Poor Marks

Tara held the door open and Spike shuffled through into the waiting room, his eyes puffy and red. Buffy tossed the magazine she hadn’t really been reading onto the table and jumped to her feet, wrapping him in a hug and trying her very hardest not to glare at Tara. Spike crushed her to his chest and murmured into her hair, “I’m okay, luv. I’m okay.”

Tara laid her hand gently on his shoulder. “You made a lot of progress today, Spike, and I’m proud of you. See you at two o’clock tomorrow?”

Spike nodded weakly and Buffy moved to his side, keeping her arm around his waist as they made their way out of the office. She looked up at his tear-streaked face as they waited in the deserted hallway for the elevator. “You want to stop by your Mom’s room again before we leave?”

Spike shook his head and swiped his hand over his face. “No, that’s all right. Don’t think I’d be much good to her in this state. Just want to go home and sleep. I’m so tired, Buffy, so bloody tired.”

Buffy nodded and they made their way slowly out of the hospital to the car. Spike was asleep before they’d made it to the first stop light.

XX  
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XX

Buffy woke to Spike’s keening. He was lying on his back, stiff as a board as he tossed his head from side to side, an agonized not quite scream issuing through his clenched teeth. Suddenly he folded in on himself, cradling his groin as he screamed into the mattress. Buffy was just about to reach out and touch his shoulder when he shot up, eyes wide and rolling as his hands went from his groin to his hair, twisting and pulling through the short locks. She grabbed his wrists before he could rake his nails down his face again and held them tight as he slowly woke up. She knew the second he became fully aware because he crumpled back to the mattress, wrapping his arms around his head as soon as she let go of his wrists.

His body was wracked with sobs as she leaned down and murmured quietly, stroking lightly up and down his back, “Shhh… you’re okay, Spike. It was just a dream. You’re safe. You’re okay.”

She kept murmuring and stroking his back until his trembling stopped and his breathing evened out then she pulled the blankets back over him. She lay down on her side; her head propped up on her hand as she gently stroked his arm and watched him sleep. Once she was sure that he wasn’t in the throes of another nightmare, she laid her own head down and drifted off, her hand still lying lightly on his forearm.

XX  
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XX

Buffy woke the second time to Spike’s blue, blue eyes watching her. She smiled and lifted her hand to his face, gently trailing her fingertips down his cheek and across his lips. “Morning. How do you feel?”

He shrugged. “Still a bit tired and quite sore, but I’ll live. Think maybe Peaches and I should have taken it a bit easier yesterday.” He smirked. “Although I’d wager he feels a lot worse than I do, considering how many times he hit the ground.”

Buffy giggled, “You kicked his ass, huh?”

Spike nodded. “Yeah. He showed me a lot of different things and let me try it all out on him. Don’t know how I’d fare in a real fight, but whoever comes after me next time won’t find such an easy target.”

Buffy grinned, “Good,” then her expression turned serious and she asked quietly, “How are you doing with the whole nightmare aftermath thing?”

He shrugged again. “As well as can be expected, I suppose. Least I didn’t toddle off into the night this time.”

Buffy slid her hand down his back and gently snapped the waistband of his sleep pants. “And you would’ve been covered if you had.”

Spike looked down in surprise then chuckled. “Didn’t notice, pet. Don’t remember puttin’ these on.”

Buffy smiled up at him. “You were asleep so I put them on you, and I’m here to tell you, buster, you’re pretty heavy when you’re all unconscious.”

Spike laughed. “Sorry, luv. Just leave me in my denims the next time I pass out on you.”

Buffy shook her head. “No, your jeans would be uncomfortable and at least the sleep pants will keep you from streaking through the neighborhood with everything hanging out if you decide to go walking after midnight.”

Spike leaned down and gave her a quick kiss. “Ta, kitten.”

“You’re welcome, so was it the same dream?”

He nodded with a grimace. “For the most part, yeah. Some things were different, but the main theme was the same.” He reached out and ran his fingers lightly through her hair. “Havin’ you here helped, luv. More than you know. Think I’ll be able to get through ‘em all right long as you’re near.”

Buffy smiled. “Well I don’t have any plans to be anywhere else.”

Spike frowned slightly. “Just don’t want you losin’ sleep ‘cause you’re havin’ to coddle me. You’ve got school and cheerleading and what all, don’t want you gettin’ hurt or lettin’ your marks fall off ‘cause you’re knackered all the time.”

Buffy sat up slightly and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Losing an hour or so of sleep isn’t going to kill me, Spike. We’ll just have to start going to sleep a little earlier until your nightmares stop. No big.” 

Spike’s frown deepened. “What if they don’t stop, Buffy? Don’t know how much longer I can put up with ‘em. I’ve only had two so far and the thought that I’ll have to see those horrible things every night…”

Buffy gently cupped his cheek. “They’ll stop, Spike. You keep seeing Tara and eventually they’ll stop. Maybe you just haven’t completely convinced yourself that your dad’s really not coming back and when you do, the dreams will stop.”

“Yeah, maybe. I hope so.”

Buffy lay back against her pillow and smiled. “So, what do you want to do today? You see Tara at two and the game starts at six, so we’ve got some time.”

He shrugged. “Don’t know, luv. I’d like to go see Mum ‘fore I see Miss Maclay, but other than that, I’m open. We could always get caught up on the schoolwork we’ve missed since you’ve got to go back tomorrow.”

“God, don’t remind me,” Buffy groaned as her bottom lip came out in a pout. “Don’t wanna go to school if you’re not gonna be there.”

Spike smirked and leaned forward, murmuring, “Oooh, look at that lip. Gonna get it.” He caught her lip lightly in his teeth and her arms came up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. 

His hand was sliding up her side and was about to cup her breast when they heard someone clear their throat from the doorway. Buffy squeaked and poked her head up to peek over Spike’s shoulder as he turned far enough to look at the doorway. She threw a glare at her little sister. “Dawnie! God! Ever hear of knocking?”

Dawn glared right back. “Ever hear of closing the stupid door? I could hear you two macking on each other all the way down the hall! Breakfast is almost ready and Mom said to get dressed and come eat.” She stuck her tongue out at Buffy then smiled sweetly at Spike as she pulled the door closed. 

Buffy grumbled under her breath, “Brat.”

Spike chuckled as he sat up. “She’s not a brat, luv. I did forget to close the door, so it’s not her fault.”

Buffy lay back on the pillow and raised her arms over her head as she arched her back in a stretch. Spike’s eyes were glued to her naked chest as she lowered her arms and smiled. “Actually, I forgot to close the door. You were barely conscious when I finally got you up here.”

Spike nodded absently then leaned down and licked across Buffy’s nipple before latching onto it and tugging lightly with his teeth. Her hands wound through his messy curls, tugging his head closer as he suckled at one breast for a few minutes then moved across to the other one. He was leaving a trail of wet kisses down her stomach when there was a loud pounding on the door and Dawn shouted, “If I have to come up here again, I’m bringing a bucket of cold water!”

They both sighed at the same time and Spike buried his face in her stomach as Buffy giggled, “Now do you think she’s a brat?”

XX  
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XX

They were sitting at the dining room table with textbooks and papers spread out in front of them. Buffy dropped her forehead to the book that was open in front of her and groaned, “Remind me again why I thought taking Calculus was a good idea.”

Spike shrugged as he crossed out a bit of writing in his notebook and scribbled something next to it. “I never thought it was a good idea, ‘s why I’m not in Calculus. Maybe you should call Red, hear she’s good at Maths.”

Buffy lifted her head and smiled. “She’s like Brainiac when it comes to math classes… or any classes, really. I’ll hit her up in study hall tomorrow and she can probably help me.” She lifted up onto her elbows and leaned across the table, trying to look at Spike’s notebook. “Whatcha working on?”

He pulled the notebook out of her line of sight and hurriedly flipped it closed. “Nothin’… just uh… History.”

Buffy smirked. “Nice try, mister, but we finished History an hour ago. In fact, you rubbed it in my face that you were already done with all your homework, so…” He hugged the notebook closer to his chest and she batted her eyelashes and wheedled, “C’mon, Spike, you can tell me. Please?”

His face heated in a blush as he looked toward the front door and mumbled, “Writingapoem.”

“What? I didn’t catch that. You were talking too fast.”

Spike sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m writing a poem. Yes, I’m a ponce who likes poetry, even though I’m crap at it. Please don’t laugh at me, Buffy. Don’t think I could bear it.”

Buffy got up and moved around the table, sitting down in the chair next to Spike. She laid her hand gently on his leg and said quietly, “You’re not a ponce because you like poetry, and I would never laugh at you because you do.” She leaned close and whispered in his ear, “Actually, I think it’s incredibly sexy and I’d love for you to read me some of your poems sometime.” She lightly traced his ear with her tongue. “God, I’m already getting wet just thinking about your voice…” 

Spike shivered and reached down to adjust himself. “Bloody hell, kitten. I’m gonna start gettin’ poor marks in school if I’ve never any blood in my brain.” 

Buffy lifted her hand off his thigh and leaned back with a frown. “Sorry, Spike… I’ll just… uh… leave you alone.”

Spike reached for her hand and tugged her into his lap as he tossed the notebook onto the table. “No… I’m sorry, Buffy, I didn’t mean it like that.” He smiled slightly. “See? Can’t think properly because of the lack of blood in my brain. Just meant that you…” He dipped his head, his cheeks turning pink. “When you use that sexy little whisper, and do that thing with your tongue it gets me… uh… you know… and I really don’t mind, pet, not at all.”

Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and nibbled her way from his jaw to his ear. “You mean this sexy little whisper?” He nodded and his eyes rolled back in his head as her tongue traced the shell of his ear. “And that thing with my tongue?”

His breathy whisper of, “Yeah, that thing,” was caught by Buffy’s lips as they took his in a deep, tongue tangling kiss. 

They broke apart when Dawn stepped into the dining room with an eye roll and a chuckled, “Geez you guys, get a room or something. Impressionable young eyes over here, you know.” At their embarrassed blushes, Dawn laughed, “Unless this is part of your homework. Are you guys studying anatomy? Because I’m pretty sure you’d be able to find each other’s tonsils easier with your eyes instead of your tongues.”

Dawn’s laughter trailed after her as she stepped into the kitchen and Buffy hid her face against Spike’s neck and sighed, “You know, I’m really starting to wish that Mom and Dad hadn’t taught her to speak.” She raised her head and smirked at Spike. “I think little Dawnie has entered the ‘be a royal pain to her big sister’ stage of her development.”


	31. Twisted Knickers

Bruises  
Chapter 31 – Twisted Knickers

Tara opened the door and Spike walked through wearing a small smile. Buffy chucked the magazine she again hadn’t been reading and got to her feet, confusion all over her face. “You’re smiling? Guess things went a little better this time, huh?”

Tara smiled at Buffy. “We kept things light today because Spike wanted to be able to go to the football game.”

Spike wrapped Buffy in a hug as she stepped up in front of him. “We had a good chat, luv. Miss Maclay’s a great help.”

Tara smiled and looked at Buffy. “Could I speak to you for a few minutes, Buffy?”

Buffy nodded slowly as she looked up at Spike. “Uh… yeah, I guess.”

“I know about it, kitten. It’s all right. I’ve given permission to Miss Maclay so she can talk to you ‘bout me.”

“Okay. Um… be right back.” Buffy stepped nervously in to Tara’s office and sat down uneasily on the edge of the couch as Tara closed the door. “So…”

Tara sat down in the comfortable looking, slightly beat up easy chair that faced the couch and smiled. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

Buffy shrugged. “I’m okay. Spike had another nightmare last night, but at least he didn’t run off this time, so that’s good, right?”

Tara nodded. “Yes, it is, but I wanted to know how **you’re** handling things. I know all this is a lot to deal with and I’d like to make sure that you’re not feeling overwhelmed.”

Buffy shook her head. “No… I mean, yeah, some of this stuff is a little wig-inducing, but as long as I don’t try to see it all at once and just deal with the now, I do fine. Does that make sense?”

Tara nodded. “Compartmentalizing. Putting things into little boxes and only dealing with one box at a time. It can be a very healthy way to deal with stressful situations – you put away the problem at hand to do something else with the understanding that you’ll come back to it later – but you have to be careful not to make a habit of hiding away your emotions and not dealing with them at all. If you do that, they can build and spill out of all the boxes at the same time…”

“Which would be epic badness.”

Tara smiled. “Yes, exactly. Now, to completely change the subject, Spike spent a lot of time talking about you today.”

Buffy smiled brightly. “He did?”

“Yes. He loves you very much, and he’s worried that dealing with his issues is taking too much out of you.” 

Buffy shook her head. “It’s not. I don’t know if I can explain this right, but… I know he feels stronger when he’s with me… and even though he’s drawing strength from me, I’m getting some from him, too. I feel stronger and more able to handle things when he’s around.”

Tara nodded. “You feed each other, just as I’d suspected.” She leaned forward slightly. “How are things on the sexual front? I’m assuming you’ve been intimate since the incident at Spike’s house?”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “Wow. Not much for easing into things, are you?”

Tara laughed. “No. I find that being direct saves a lot of time. So?”

Buffy blushed slightly. “Yeah, we have. We worked out the whole permission to touch issue and he told me that he’d never felt like I’d forced him into anything, but I still try to ask before I do anything now. Just to give him the chance to say no if he wants.”

“And you’re being careful? You’re both a little young to be having children of your own.”

Buffy’s blush got just a little deeper. “We haven’t actually… um… had intercourse. Just, you know, um… oral and by hand and stuff and besides, I’m on the pill, so when we do…”

“I see. Not that I’m trying to rush you into anything, but is there any particular reason why you haven’t?”

Buffy shrugged. “Just hasn’t been the right time. We almost did the other day, but we were interrupted by Spike’s social worker and since then… with everything else going on… yeah. I want to, but I want Spike to be ready and as long as he’s got all this other stuff on his mind… I don’t want our first time to be about comfort or trying to forget the badness or anything… I just want it to be right, you know?”

Tara nodded. “You’re a very smart and intuitive young woman, Buffy, and I think you’re handling all this beautifully.” Tara stood up and took a step toward the door. “But if you ever do need to talk about anything, please get in touch with me.”

Buffy stood and moved to stand near the door. “Um… okay. Do I need to give you insurance information or anything to pay for this? I don’t know how stuff like this works.”

Tara shook her head. “No. As it stands, Spike’s care is covered by the state and checking in with you is just an extension of that care, but if you ever need to interact with me as a patient in your own right then we’ll work it out at that time.”

Buffy smiled. “Ok and thanks. What time does he need to be here tomorrow?”

“I’ve got him down for five again, the latest appointment I have.”

Buffy nodded. “So that way he can just go home and go to sleep after.”

“Yes. We have a lot of ground to cover and I imagine he’ll be fairly wrung out by the end of the session.”

Tara pulled the door open and Buffy stepped through then turned back and smiled. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

XX  
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XX

Buffy climbed out of the car and stood up on her tiptoes as she scanned the parking lot. Spike walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “What’re you lookin’ for, pet?”

“Angel’s car. He’s supposed to meet us here.” She spotted the small black Viper and stuck her fingers in her mouth, letting out an extremely loud whistle. Angel’s head turned in their direction and he started across the parking lot. Buffy turned around in Spike’s arms and leaned up for a kiss. “I’ve got to go meet the rest of the squad. See you after the game. Love you, Spike.”

Spike tightened his arms around her and nuzzled against her neck. “Love you too, kitten. Break a leg.”

Buffy pulled back with a giggle and smacked him lightly on the arm. “Oh ha ha, Spike. Now you’ve jinxed me, so if I do break my leg, guess who gets to carry me around and wait on me and everything?”

Spike smirked. “I’d be your willing slave, Buffy.”

Buffy leaned up and whispered in his ear, “And oh the dirty naughty thoughts that statement brings up.” Buffy grinned as Spike shivered against her and moaned quietly into her hair. Buffy nipped at his neck then dropped back to the ground and turned to face Angel. “Tag, you’re it. See you guys after the game!” She bounced across the parking lot and hooked arms with Cordelia when they met in front of the grandstand. The two girls leaned close, giggling and whispering to each other as they weaved their way through the crowd.

Spike and Angel watched until they’d disappeared into the stadium then Spike smirked up at Angel. “So… your car was still at Buffy’s this morning… any particular reason?”

Angel blushed and mumbled, “StayedatCordy’shouseallnight.”

Spike had heard what he said, but this was too good an opportunity to pass up so he took a step back and smirked. “What was that? Didn’t quite catch it.”

Angel stepped closer and spoke low, trying not to be overheard by the other fans streaming across the parking lot toward the stadium. “I was at Cordy’s all night. Her parents are out of town.”

Spike grinned then blinked innocently. “Right. And what were you doin’ all night with her parents out of town? Playin’ cards?”

Angel’s blush deepened and he coughed out, “Havingsex.”

Spike laughed and nudged Angel with his elbow. “So I guess she didn’t shoot you down then, yeah?”

Angel grinned widely as they turned and started walking toward the stadium. “No, that’s pretty much the complete opposite of what she did.”

They stepped into the shadowed space beneath the grandstand and Spike looked over at Angel. “I thought you couldn’t set foot on school property until your suspension was over. I’d figure that includes showin’ up at school functions.”

Angel shrugged as they stopped at the end of the line for the concession stand. “Well, considering that the game’s being played at the college instead of the high school, it’s kind of a loophole, so I’m okay to be here.”

Spike smirked. “So you put your don’t want to be a lawyer brain to work and figured out a very lawyerly way around the rules?”

Angel chuckled, “Well… that, and Mr. Giles said I could come.”

Spike frowned and shoved his hands into his duster pockets. “Because of me. Don’t need a sitter in a stadium full of people, you know. Think I can refrain from acting on any of my lunatic urges while I’m here.” The balding man standing in front of Spike flicked his eyes somewhat fearfully over his shoulder then clutched his small daughter tighter to his side as he shuffled forward, putting some distance between them.

Spike rolled his eyes as Angel shook his head. “I’m not your babysitter, Spike. I’m your friend and I’m here as your friend. I asked Mr. Giles if there was any way I could come to the game for two reasons: I wanted to watch Cordy and I wanted to hang with you.”

Spike blinked in surprise. “Me? Why?”

Angel shrugged and looked around shyly before he spoke quietly, “You’re the only person I’ve told about the whole teaching martial arts thing who hasn’t laughed at me, and you’ve given me good advice on two of the most important things in my life… Cordy and my future. And I know that I can talk to you about anything and you won’t use it against me.”

Spike blinked again and said quietly. “Oh.”

XX  
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XX

“What are you doing here, O’Connor? Chaperoning the ‘Tard Squad’ on their little field trip? Or are you the newest member? Got your secret tard decoder ring yet?”

Angel rolled his eyes and flapped his hand dismissively toward the team bench. “Fuck off, Finn. Don’t you have a game to be thinking about? Central kicked your ass then handed it to you the last time we played them, so maybe you should be thinking about how you’re going to avoid being sacked **nine times** instead of worrying about what I’m doing.”

Spike snorted and Riley narrowed his eyes and glared at him. “Got something to say, Blondie?”

Spike smirked. “Not to you. Be gone, pest. Go bother someone else.” He leaned forward and looked at Xander. “Oi, pass me the nachos, would ya, mate?”

Xander grinned and handed the nachos off to Willow. “Do British people even eat nachos? I thought you were all tea and crumpets or whatever.”

Riley opened his mouth to speak and Spike smiled appreciatively when Willow cut him off. “British people eat the same things we do, Xan.”

Riley tried again, but Spike cut him off. “And we also eat a lot of other things like bangers and mash, black pudding, bubble and squeak, not to mention fish and chips, and you haven’t lived until you’ve had a proper English breakfast.”

Riley fumed as Oz spoke over whatever he was trying to say. “Chips, that’s what you call fries, right?” Spike nodded. “So what do you call potato chips?”

Spike grinned as Riley’s mouth snapped shut yet again. “Crisps. You’d say bag of chips, we’d say packet of crisps.” Riley finally gave up and stomped off toward the team bench and the five of them started laughing. “That was bloody brilliant, you lot. Got his knickers in a right proper twist.”

Angel watched the retreating quarterback with a thoughtful look. “You know all that did was piss him off even more and it’ll be just that much worse if he ever catches you alone anywhere.”

Spike shrugged. “Life is risk, mate. Not gonna spend mine livin’ in fear of some useless tosser with a bug up his arse. If it happens, it happens and I’ll deal with it then.” He winked at Angel. “’Sides, it’s not like I’m ever alone anymore, right, Peaches?”

Angel nodded and leaned close, speaking quietly. “I’ll be over at 7:30 tomorrow and we’ll get started on throat punches and other moves to disable an attacker. With the way he was just glaring at you from the bench, I think you might need those pretty soon.”


	32. Piranha

Bruises  
Chapter 32 – Piranha

Spike’s thrashing and his muffled shout of “No!” woke Buffy from a sound sleep. She sat up slowly, trying to get her bearings through the fuzziness in her brain as Spike folded in on himself again. This time, he didn’t wake up right away. He kept thrashing and suddenly arched backwards, almost flinging himself off the bed as his face contorted in agony. He scrabbled at his back like there was something stuck there then suddenly collapsed. His chest was heaving with ragged breaths and he was trembling almost violently as he gripped the sheet tight in his fists.

Buffy leaned forward and lightly touched his shoulder. “Spike? Are you awake?”

He nodded and muttered into the mattress. “Yeah.”

Buffy scooted close and stretched out next to him, rubbing soothing strokes up and down his back. “Can you tell me about it?”

He shook his head and gripped the sheet a little tighter, his knuckles turning white. “Can I? Yeah, I can, but I won’t. Don’t want you bearin’ the burden of what I’ve seen and felt. It’s gettin’ worse, Buffy.”

Buffy lowered her head and laid a gentle kiss on his shoulder blade. “Maybe you could ask Tara for something when you see her today. Something that’ll knock you out so you don’t dream.”

He shook his head again. “Can’t. Whatever’s causin’ this will still be there and if I don’t deal with it in my nightmares it might manifest when I’m awake and then what? I go off the rails again. Don’t want that, kitten.”

Buffy stroked up and down his back for few minutes as his trembling slowly eased. “Then maybe it’s time to go see your Dad. See him locked up wearing his stupid orange jumpsuit and ugly boat shoes. Maybe that would convince your subconscious that it’s over, that he can’t hurt you anymore… or hurt anyone else.”

Spike tensed at the mention of his father then slowly relaxed into the mattress and heaved a giant sigh. “Think you might be right, kitten. I never wanted to clap eyes on him again, but maybe that’s what I need.” He lifted his head then propped himself up on his elbows. “Think you could get your cousin to set it up?” 

“Probably. I’ll call her before school.”

Spike cradled his head in his hands and whispered weakly, “Can you ask her to fix it so he won’t know I’m there? I think I can handle seein’ him, but I don’t think I can deal with anythin’ more than that right now.”

Buffy placed her hand on the back of his head and combed her fingers lightly through his hair. “Sure. That’s a good plan, actually. Start small – just see him first and if that doesn’t help with the dreams then we could move up to…”

“Talkin’ to the wanker.”

Buffy nodded. “Right, but there’s no reason to put yourself through that if you don’t need to.”

Spike flopped back down to the mattress and heaved another giant sigh. “Thanks, Buffy.

XX  
XXXX  
XX

“And make it obvious even to a blind man that he’s locked up. I’m talking chains and humongoid padlocks… do you have one of those masks like Hannibal Lecter wore? One of those would be good. Of course, you’d have to leave it off at first so Spike could see his face…”

Faith broke in, “Buffy! Geez… I think I’ve got the idea.”

“You’ve got all that stuff?”

Faith chuckled, “Not the Hannibal mask, no, but I can put James in an interrogation room behind one-way glass and cuff him to a ring bolted to the table. He’ll have a chain around his waist that attaches to the cuffs on his wrists and the manacles on his ankles which will be attached to the chair he’s sitting in which will be bolted to the floor. Will that be enough?”

“Yeah, that should do it. And he won’t know that Spike’s there, right?”

“No. I can tell him that I just want to go over something in his statement. If Spike wants, I can ask James if he regrets what he did. Hearing that his father’s sorry might help.”

“Is he though? Sorry?”

“Yeah, I think he is.”

“I wouldn’t risk that, Faith. If he says that Spike deserved it…”

“Yeah, gotcha, B. Might make things worse.”

“I don’t think Spike should hear anything from James just yet so can you make it so there’s no sound? I think just seeing him will be hard enough.”

“Yeah, we could do that.”

“And could you call Tara and ask her about this? Make sure we’re doing the right thing? I would, but I’m going to be late for school as it is.”

“Yeah. I’ll call O’Connor too. He could show Spike the list of charges and the prison time that James is looking at.”

“Thanks, Faith. Text me the details when you get it all figured out, would you?”

“Sure thing, B. Later.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Angel’s head jerked to the side as Spike’s foot came crashing toward his face, the wind of the passing appendage ruffling his hair as he fell backwards into the grass. “Wow! You had some power behind that one, Spike! You’d have taken my head off!”

Spike grinned as he danced on the balls of his feet, rolling his shoulders and shaking his hands. “Thanks, but it still feels awkward, like I’m about to lose my balance.”

Angel sat up then slid over and fished his phone out of his backpack when it started beeping. “We’ll work on that more after lunch.” He slid his phone open and started tapping on the small keys. “Buffy says it’s set up for 4:00 tomorrow. My Dad’s gonna be there and so is Miss Maclay.”

Spike walked over to the table and picked up his towel, scrubbing it over his sweaty face. “Sounds like a party.”

Angel looked up at him as he stuffed the phone back into his bag. “You sure you want to do this?”

Spike snorted. “Bloody hell no. I’d rather dip my tackle in a piranha tank.” 

Angel winced as he climbed to his feet and moved to the table, picking up his own towel. “Then why are you doing it?”

Spike draped his towel over his shoulders and dropped into the nearest deck chair. “The nightmares get worse every time and I’ve only had three. Don’t know how many more of those horrific images I can live with and I see ‘em practically every time I close my eyes. Buffy thinks I’m not convinced that my Da’s locked up with the key nicely tossed away so I keep dreamin’ that he’s comin’ back.”

Angel picked up his bottle of water and upended it over his head as he dropped down into his own chair. “So you think going to see him in jail will convince you that he can’t come back?”

Spike touched the end of his nose with his fingertip. “Got it in one, mate.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Spike strode confidently through the hallways toward the cafeteria. He’d stopped by the office to say hello to Mr. Giles and the secretary had made him put on a ‘visitor’ sticker because he wasn’t technically supposed to be in school this week. Of course he’d peeled it off before he’d made it ten feet from the door and it now resided in the bottom of his duster pocket mashed into a crumpled little ball.

He rolled his shoulders slightly, feeling the duster’s weight. Wearing the leather coat made him feel powerful… brave. The jewelry and carefully spiked hair added to the feeling and he smirked as he augmented his gait with a little more swagger. Oh yeah… the Big Bad was back.

The bell rang and the hallway flooded with students just as Spike stepped through the doors into the cafeteria. He took position at a table near the windows, leaning back casually against a conveniently placed support pillar as he turned his gaze on the doors, waiting for his girl.

His grin lit up the room as she stepped through the door clutching a stack of books to her chest. She made a beeline for Spike and leaned down for a deep kiss as she dropped the books on the table. His hands found their way to her hips and started sliding up under her shirt. Her hands were busy as well. One was fisted in the hair on the back of his head, holding him in the perfect position to be devoured while the other was sliding over his chest. They suddenly broke apart, both wearing deep blushes as the room erupted into wolf whistles and cat calls. Buffy sat down on the bench next to Spike and buried her face in his chest until the ruckus tapered off then she lifted her head and smiled. “Kinda forgot we weren’t alone.”

Spike smiled warmly and pressed his forehead to hers while he discreetly adjusted himself under the table. “Know how you feel, kitten. How’s your day been?” 

She leaned her elbow on the table, resting her head on her hand as she gazed at him. “It’s a lot better now.” 

He leaned forward for a quick kiss then sat back. “You gonna get lunch?”

She nodded. “Yeah, probably should. You want anything?”

He shook his head. “No thanks, Peaches and I had a quick bite at the diner.”

She stood up and headed for the food line as Willow and Xander plopped their trays down on the table. Oz was a few steps behind and set his tray next to Willow’s as he nodded at Spike. “Spike.”

Spike nodded back. “Oz.”

Xander laughed. “Woah, woah, woah… you guys talk way too much. Nobody else can get a word in edgewise.”

Oz chuckled as Spike threw up two fingers. “Bite me, whelp.”

“Whelp? What kind of name is that?”

Spike smirked. “Yours now, apparently.”

Willow grinned. “It means ‘puppy’ or ‘small child.’”

Xander threw a playful glare at Spike. “I’ll have you know, pal, that I’m neither a puppy nor a small child.”

Spike chuckled, “Just call ‘em like I see ‘em… whelp.”

Buffy plopped her tray down next to her stack of books. “You two play nice.”

Spike gave Buffy his best innocent face. “I’ve been the very picture of politeness, luv.”

Buffy snorted, “I bet,” then sat down and snuggled into Spike’s side. She picked up a French fry off her plate and dipped it into a large pool of ketchup then popped it into her mouth. 

A dollop of ketchup clung enticingly to her bottom lip and Spike stared at it, about to lean close and lick it off when Xander laughed. “Geez, you’re staring at her like a starving man stares at a steak. You know, they have lots of food over there so you don’t have to eat **her** , Bleach Boy.” 

Buffy choked on her fry and Spike’s cheeks went from cool to fiery inferno in about 2.2 seconds. Buffy coughed and sputtered then smacked Xander on the shoulder as she hissed, “You don’t need to worry about what Spike does or doesn’t eat, Xander Harris!”

Xander looked confused for a second then the light came on and he blushed almost as red as Spike. He mumbled, “Sweet baby Jesus,” as his eyes flicked from Spike to Buffy like he was watching a tennis match before finally settling on Spike’s still bright red face. “You mean you’ve… with your… there?” 

His eyes glazed over and his mouth went slack and Buffy smacked him again. “Stop imagining it!”

Xander clutched at his now kind of sore shoulder and blinked, “Sorry, Buffy,” then he shrugged apologetically and smiled, “But I’m a guy. It’s a guy brain thing.”

Buffy smiled back. “Well, your guy brain better stop thinking about that or I’ll yank it out through your ear.”

Spike chanced a peek at Willow and Oz. Willow’s face was as red as her hair and Oz had his arm wrapped over her shoulders and a wide grin on his face. He gave Spike a knowing wink then picked up his burger as he hugged Willow tighter to his side.

Xander caught the wink and he gaped at Oz and Willow. “You, too? God, am I the only person at this table who isn’t having sex?”

The silence rippled out from their table until it encompassed the entire room. Then the laughing started. Somebody shouted from a few tables over, ‘Yeah, like that’s news, Harris!’ and Xander dropped his forehead to the table next to his tray and muttered, “Just kill me now.”

Willow reached across the table and awkwardly patted Xander’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Xan. You’ll find someone and then you’ll have lots of sex.”

Xander’s head shot up and he squeaked, “Wils! Jesus!”

Willow shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “What? Just saying.”

Spike’s face finally returned to its normal shade and he sat wearing an easy grin as the group finished eating their lunch. They joked and laughed easily and often and he marveled at how comfortable he felt with these people. He’d never been included in a group of friends like this and it was a pleasant experience. He contributed to the conversation and laughed at the jokes and harmless jibes aimed at him and the others. Before Buffy, he’d never have felt confident enough to joke or poke fun. He’d been ridiculed quite a lot during his schooling, and having his differences pointed out had always given him a sick, queasy feeling in his stomach, but now he was part of the group and even the jokes made at his expense gave him a warm feeling in his belly because he knew there was no malice behind them. For the first time in his life he felt like he belonged and he decided that he really liked that feeling.


	33. Lavender

Bruises  
Chapter 33 – Lavender

Buffy was a little better prepared when Spike stepped out of Tara’s office this time. She had a paper towel dampened with cool water that she gently cleaned the tears off his face with before he wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to his chest. He buried his face in her hair and just held her tight as Buffy quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at Tara.

Tara nodded toward Spike and mouthed, “Ask him,” then held up her iPad and tapped on it a few times, “I’ll see you at the station tomorrow, all right, Spike?”

Spike shrugged. “Yeah. Somebody’ll get me there.” He pulled back slightly and nodded toward the exit. “Can we go, kitten?”

Buffy nodded and turned, wrapping her arm around Spike’s waist. “See you tomorrow, Tara.”

They didn’t speak as they made their way to Buffy’s car. Spike dropped down into the passenger seat and listlessly fastened his seat belt then laid his head back and closed his eyes. Buffy started the car and asked quietly as she pulled out onto the street, “Do you want to talk about it? Last time you told me you were okay when you came out. You didn’t this time.”

“I’m not. Okay, that is.”

“What did you guys talk about today?”

Spike squeezed his eyes shut tighter and reached for the door handle with his right hand, clenching it tightly in his fist. “She asked me to describe the punishments… the tools Da used… and how he used ‘em.”

“Oh, Spike…”

“I’d blocked a lot of it out, apparently. Even though it was happenin’ every day, I didn’t really think much on it, you know? I knew I was gettin’ beat regularly and it hurt – more or less dependin’ on what he was usin’ at the time – and I remember screamin’ until my throat was raw, but after… when I was cleanin’ myself up… it just kind of faded, I guess. I’d be in tremendous pain, but the reason for the pain just didn’t really register. I mean, I knew why… but I just didn’t connect this welt with that tool or the cut on my leg with the whip, you know?”

“And she made you remember the reasons.”

Spike sighed, “Yeah. Describin’ it for her made it feel like it was happenin’ all over again.” He suddenly lifted his shirt and looked at his still slightly bruised stomach. “I feel like I should be covered in bruises and welts, but it’s all in my mind.” He dropped his shirt and leaned his head back on the seat with a groan. “I’m in more pain right now than I have been for almost a week and although I **know** I’m hurtin’ because of scrappin’ with Angel…”

“Your mind is saying it’s because of your Dad.” Spike nodded. “Do you want to take a nice hot bath when we get home? It might help you relax.”

Spike nodded and turned his head to gaze out the window. “Sure, kitten, whatever.”

XXXX

“Ok, Spike, the tub’s full.” Spike nodded and stood up slowly from the bed then shuffled painfully toward the bathroom. Buffy met him halfway to the door and wrapped her arm around his waist. “You want me to help?”

He shook his head as they stepped into the bathroom. “I’ll manage, pet. ‘M sure you’ve better things to do than bathe me like a bloody toddler.”

Buffy tightened her arm around Spike’s waist and reached up, lightly grasping his chin. “No, I really don’t have anything better to do than help my boyfriend. You’re hurting and if I can do anything to ease your pain then that’s my first priority, so please let me take care of you.” She smiled up at him. “And ‘toddler’ is so not an accurate description of you, doofus. Believe me, seeing you all with the naked and wet is pretty high on Buffy’s list of yummy.”

A small grin flitted around Spike’s face and he dipped his head, lightly brushing his lips across hers. “All right, pet, ‘m all yours. Do with me what you will.”

She helped him out of his clothes, grimacing right along with him when every move he made seemed to cause more pain. Once he was undressed, she helped him into the tub, reaching for a jar on the edge as he leaned back in the steaming water with a pained groan. “What’s that, kitten?”

She unscrewed the lid and shook a sizeable portion of small purple crystals out of the jar, sprinkling them throughout the water. “Lavender bath salts.” She held up the jar as she screwed the lid back on and read from the label. “This wonderful bath draws out toxins from the skin, muscles, and blood stream, relieving aches and pains. Also eases tension and headaches.” She set the jar back on the side of the tub. 

Spike sniffed the lavender fragrance wafting up from the water and smirked. “And it’ll make me smell like a flower shop, right?”

“Maybe, but I figure every little bit helps. I use them when I’m sore from practice and I always feel tons better after a long soak, so hopefully it’ll help you, too. Lavender is also supposed to help you sleep and I read somewhere once that scents can influence dreams. Bad smells make bad dreams and good smells make good dreams, so maybe a long, hot soak in a good smelling bath will help with your nightmares.” She shrugged and gave him a small smile. “Couldn’t hurt anyway, right?”

He shook his head and closed his eyes as he relaxed into the water. Buffy sat on the edge of the tub next to his head and leaned back against the wall as she carded her fingers through his hair. They sat in silence for a while and she thought he’d drifted off to sleep, so when he spoke it startled her just a little. “What’s wrong with me, Buffy?”

Her fingers had stopped their movement in his hair and she started them back up again as she whispered, “Wrong? What do you mean?”

“There has to be something wrong with me. I’m not clever enough, or I’m ugly, or maybe I’m just completely worthless. There has to be a reason.”

Buffy’s hand stilled again, her stomach coiling into a tense knot. “A reason for what?”

Spike turned his head and looked up at her with eyes full of pain. “Why doesn’t he love me? What is so wrong with me that my own Da doesn’t love me?”

Buffy slid to her knees beside the tub and pulled Spike into a tight hug, heedless of the water sloshing over the tub edge. “Oh, Spike, there’s nothing wrong with you, not one damn thing. It’s his problem – there’s something fundamentally wrong with **him** – not you.” 

Spike buried his face in her neck and she could feel his hot tears on her skin as his body shook with heart wrenching sobs. “Then why, Buffy? Why? How could he do those things to me? I love him – even after everything – I don’t want to… I want to hate him, I’ve tried to hate him, but I can’t… and I tried so hard to be a good son and he still… what is it about me that makes him enjoy hurting me?”

Buffy murmured into his hair, “I don’t know what his damage is, but there’s nothing about you or that you did or said to deserve any of that… it is so totally not your fault. No child deserves to be abused; the blame falls squarely on the abuser.”

“But…”

Buffy tightened her hold on him and put as much steel into her voice as she could. “No buts. Everything that bastard did to you is **his** fault. Only his. You didn’t ask for it and you didn’t deserve it and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you.”

Spike clung to her as he sobbed, the water sloshing wildly in the tub and falling over the edge to soak Buffy’s jeans and the rug on the floor. It took quite a while for the sobs to taper off and by the time they did, the water had gone cold. Buffy gently combed her fingers through the short hair at the nape of Spike’s neck and murmured quietly, “Let’s get you out of there before you catch cold.”

Spike nodded against her damp shoulder then sniffled as he sat up and pulled his knees against his chest. “’M sorry, Buffy.”

Buffy paused as she reached for the plug and looked at him. “Sorry for what?”

His gaze was fixed firmly on his drawn up knees as the water started flowing down the drain. “Bein’ such a weepy little ponce. ‘M sure you’d rather have a boyfriend who doesn’t bawl all over you like a soddin’ baby all the time. Just wish I was stronger, could be a proper man for you.”

Buffy tugged him to his feet and wrapped a thick, fluffy robe around his shoulders then helped him step out of the tub. She grabbed a towel and started vigorously scrubbing his legs as she pondered the correct response to his last statement. He was completely dry, standing there clutching the damp robe tight in his fists as he shivered and stared at the sodden rug under his feet before she finally thought of something. 

She stepped back and leaned against the sink, crossing her arms over her chest. “So, you don’t think you’re a ‘proper man.’ You think you’re too weak for me.” Spike nodded miserably, clutching the robe a little tighter, and Buffy put on her strongest resolve face as she spoke in a clear, concise voice. “I’m calling bullshit on that.” He looked up at her in surprise and she went on before he could say anything. “Let me ask you something. If someone was hurting me, would you try to save me?” She held up her hand when his mouth opened. “No words – just nod or shake your head.” He nodded. “All right. And if I needed help with something – even if you weren’t sure you could give me that help – would you still try?” He nodded again. “Now, if I needed to cry about something, would you hold me and let me cry?” He nodded one more time. “Okay, one last question. Do you think I’m weak?”

He shook his head vigorously and Buffy let a small smile through the resolve face. “Good. So if you would do all the things for me that I’ve done for you and I’m not weak then…”

He closed his eyes and murmured, “By that logic I’m not weak… but real men… strong men... they don’t cry all over their girlfriends, Buffy.”

Buffy stepped close and reached out to cup his cheek in her palm. “Spike, look at me, please.” He opened his eyes, a fresh sheen of tears threatening to spill over and she rubbed her thumb across his cheekbone. “Just because you cry doesn’t mean you’re not strong or not a real man… it means you’re human. And as far as I’m concerned, letting your emotions out in front of me, letting me see you, letting me help you when you’re hurting… that’s strong, Spike… that’s real.”

XXXX

Spike was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Buffy, however, couldn’t sleep, and she was lying on her side with her head propped up on her hand watching him when the nightmare started. She could tell because Spike suddenly rolled onto his back and extended his hands over his head, bumping them harshly against the headboard. His breathing became ragged and labored and he’d flinch violently every few seconds, his lips pressed together like he was trying to hold back a scream.

Whatever his Dad was doing to him in his dream suddenly escalated and Spike did scream, the muscles in his arms flexing like he was straining against his restraints even though there was actually nothing restraining him. His legs drew up toward his middle and his face contorted in agony, his mouth open in a silent howl for almost a full minute before he went limp. Buffy was reaching out toward his arm, intending to stroke it softly until he woke up when he suddenly bolted to a sitting position, clutching his head. She sat up and lightly touched his back as she whispered, “You awake?”

He nodded then pulled away from her and lay back down on his side, facing away from her as he curled into the fetal position and cried himself back to sleep.


	34. Instructions

Bruises  
Chapter 34 – Instructions

Buffy watched him sleep for a long time. She tried to comfort him by stroking her hand up and down his back, but every time she touched him, he flinched and pulled away, even in sleep. Finally giving up, she rolled to her back and laid there staring at the ceiling, her thoughts in turmoil. Sleep was a long time coming, but eventually in the wee hours of the morning, she drifted off.

She jolted awake at a light touch to her foot and lifted her head, blinking in the bright light streaming in through the window. “Mom? What time is it?”

“Almost 7:30. Angel’s downstairs.” Joyce looked over at the still sleeping Spike. “How was his night?”

Buffy sat up slowly and scrubbed her hands over her face. “Bad. He had another nightmare and he wouldn’t let me touch him after.” She looked over at the tousled white-blond curls poking out of the comforter that was pulled up over his head. “I don’t know if we should wake him up or leave him alone.”

“Why don’t we let him sleep, he could probably use it.” Joyce started for the door, calling over her shoulder, “Breakfast is almost ready, I’ve got Angel cooking the eggs, but you’ll have to eat fast if you want to make it to school on time.”

Buffy paused in climbing off the bed and looked at her mother. “Mom? Can you make sure to leave a plate in the fridge for Spike? He’s afraid to get himself something to eat. Angel told me he thinks we’ll kick him out if he eats something that’s somebody else’s and I forgot to tell him that he’s allowed to eat whatever he wants.”

A look of sadness passed over Joyce’s face as she stopped in the doorway and considered the Spike-shaped lump under the blanket. “That poor boy. His father really did a number on him, didn’t he?”

Buffy nodded as she shrugged into her robe and followed Joyce out of the room. “Yeah.” She stepped into her own bedroom, snagging Joyce’s arm and pulling her through the doorway. “He thinks there’s something wrong with him because his father doesn’t love him, and he thinks he’s not a ‘proper man’ because he cries.” Buffy sighed as she walked over to her dresser. “So last night was pretty rough… on both of us.”

Joyce turned Buffy and pulled her into a hug. “Are you all right, honey?”

Buffy snuggled into her mother’s embrace with a sigh, “Sort of, I guess. I’m just really tired because I spent most of last night watching him sleep and thinking about stuff.” She lifted her head and looked into Joyce’s concerned eyes. “I’m really lucky, you know? I’ve got you and Dad and even though Hank is pretty much useless as a father, I know he loves me and he’d never…”

Joyce murmured, “I know, honey.”

Buffy stepped back with a sad frown. “It just hurts me so much to see Spike hurting so much. I wish I could just… Why did his father have to do those things? Doesn’t he see how great Spike is? And Spike still loves the bastard, even after everything and I…”

“You don’t understand how he could love someone who’s hurt him so much.”

Buffy’s shoulders slumped as she breathed out, “Yeah.”

Joyce wrapped her in a tight hug, whispering against her hair, “We can’t control how we feel, Buffy.”

Buffy squeezed her mother and whispered against her shoulder. “Yeah, I know.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Spike stretched his arms over his head then groaned at the aches that made themselves known as his body came fully awake. He pushed the blanket off his face and blinked sleepily around the bright room. Buffy’s side of the bed was empty and there was a folded piece of paper on her pillow with his name scrawled across it in her girly script. There was a small heart over the ‘I’ in Spike and he smiled as he picked up the note and opened it.

_Spike,_  
You were still sleeping when I got up for school and I didn’t want to disturb you. There’s food for you in the kitchen. Mom’s going to leave a plate in the fridge that you’ll need to heat up. Angel’s here too but I’ll tell him to leave you alone and let you wake up on your own.  
I’ll see you at lunch if you wake up by then, but if not, I’ll pick you up after school for the station thing.  
Love you,  
Buffy 

Spike rolled over and tucked the note into one of his books then he slowly sat up, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. He blinked in surprise when his eyes landed on the clock on his nightstand. “Half ten already? I slept for almost twelve hours? Bloody hell.”

He hurried through his morning routine and pulled his clothes on quickly then jogged down the stairs. Angel was sprawled on the sofa in the living room watching Pawn Stars and he smiled and sat up as Spike stepped off the stairs. “About time, Sleeping Beauty.” He took in Spike’s jeans and t-shirt and smirked. “Guess we’re not training this morning, huh?”

Spike shook his head as he turned and walked toward the kitchen. “Won’t have time, not if I want to make Buffy’s lunch period. We can train after, all right?” Angel followed him into the kitchen and watched as Spike hesitantly opened the fridge then smiled and pulled out a plate that was heaped with food. He slid it into the microwave and punched ninety seconds into the timer.

Angel took a seat at the island and shrugged. “Yeah, that works, but I think I’ll just talk you through stuff today. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

Spike cringed and gripped the counter. “I’m sorry, Angel. You can stop teachin’ me if you want. Don’t want you bein’ in pain ‘cause of me.”

“I’m not in pain because of you. I’m in pain because of me. I haven’t trained as much as I should for a while and my body’s just reminding me that I’ve been lazy for the last couple of months. Football doesn’t use the same muscles and the amount of work we’ve done in the last few days has made me sore, that’s all.”

Spike looked over his shoulder. “You’re sure? Don’t want to be a bother.”

Angel leaned forward, resting his elbows on the island. “I’m sure. I’ll drink a lot of water and eat a few bananas and I’ll be fine in a day or two.” He watched as Spike turned back around and focused on the microwave. “So, what’s up?”

“What do you mean?”

“Buffy told me you had a rough night. Bad nightmare.” 

Spike’s shoulders hunched and he dropped his head. “Yeah. The worst one yet.” The microwave dinged and Spike pulled his plate out then turned and sat at the island across from Angel. He looked around the kitchen for a second then shrugged and picked up a piece of bacon.

Angel got up and slid open the drawer next to the stove, pulling out a knife and fork. He set them down next to Spike’s plate then tore off a paper towel from the roll above the sink and sat down, sliding the towel across the island. “And you wouldn’t let Buffy touch you after because…”

Spike’s hand froze halfway to his mouth with a forkful of eggs. He set the fork down on his plate then laid his hands flat on the counter top. “Because she’s my girlfriend, not my wet nurse, and she shouldn’t have to deal with all this. I should be able to handle it on my own, be a man for once in my life and get through it without bein’ mollycoddled. I have to be stronger, stop leanin’ on her so much or eventually she’s gonna get tired of it… get tired of me… and then…”

Angel nodded. “Right. Um… one question. Have you met Buffy?”

Spike tilted his head in confusion. “What?”

Angel shrugged. “Just wondering if you’ve noticed how unbelievably stubborn she is, especially when it comes to people she cares about. And you’ve been dealing with this on your own for a while now, so it suddenly doesn’t make you weak or not a man because you’re accepting help. Letting her in, letting her take care of you shows her that you trust her. She loves you and not letting her help…”

“Hurts her.” Spike clenched his hands into fists on the counter top then lifted them and slammed them down. “Christ, I’m a git, aren’t I? Can’t do a bleedin’ thing right.”

“Give yourself some credit, Spike, it hasn’t even been a week and it’s not like there’s an instruction manual for this, not that you’d read it anyway because… you know… guy.” Angel smirked. “We’re men… we don’t need no stinking instructions.” Spike rolled his eyes and Angel chuckled for a few seconds then returned to his serious tone. “You’re stronger than you realize, you know. Like I said at the mall, I couldn’t have handled all the shit you’ve been through since you got here, so stop selling yourself short.” He motioned toward Spike’s rapidly cooling breakfast. “Now eat that and I’ll take you to school so you can make up with your girlfriend. Then we’ll come back here and I’ll teach you how to kick Riley’s ass. Deal?”

Spike smiled and picked up his fork. “Deal. Thanks, Angel.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Spike strode down the hallway, not feeling quite as confident this time. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make things right with Buffy, especially in a room full of teenagers stuffing their faces with barely edible food, but he was going to try, no matter how much embarrassment it caused him. She was worth it.

He took position at the same table, his fingers twitching nervously on the table top as he waited anxiously for the bell to ring. He jumped when it did and dropped his hands to his lap, twisting his fingers together almost painfully as his eyes moved to the door and glued themselves to it. The first student that barreled through the door caused him to jump again and he silently cursed himself for being such a nancy as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the cool table, taking deep breaths in an effort to steady his nerves.

A small hand on his shoulder startled him but he managed to bite back the unmanly yelp before it escaped his lips. He slowly raised his head, trepidation coursing through him as he imagined the look of anger and hurt that was sure to be present on her face.

His breath was completely taken away when his eyes lit on her bright, sunny smile and twinkling, love-filled eyes. She sat down next to him then scooted into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’m glad you woke up in time to get here. I was seriously jonesing for my Spike fix and I’ve been driving Wils crazy all morning because I didn’t get any Spike smoochies before school.”

He shyly dipped his head and murmured, “’M sorry, luv.”

“For what? Sleeping? It’s all right, Spike, you needed the rest.”

He shook his head. “No, not that. ‘M sorry for bein’ a right prat last night. Didn’t mean to push you away, pet. ‘S just…”

“No big, Spike. I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?”

She shook her head and nuzzled against his neck. “No. You’re a guy and guys sometimes do things that make absolutely no sense. I mean, it makes sense to you, but… yeah… it’s part of the whole penis package.”

Spike snorted, “Penis package? That’s the technical term, I suppose.”

Buffy quietly giggled into his ear. “Hey, I didn’t make it up; I read it in Cosmo or somewhere. It’s the testosterone, it makes guys do stuff that drives their girlfriends and wives crazy. Like leaving the toilet seat up and refusing to pick up their dirty laundry.”

Spike wrapped his arms tightly around her and whispered into her ear. “That may be, but I’m still sorry, Buffy. I’m going to try to be a bit stronger, try not to break down quite so often, but…” He shushed her when he felt her tense slightly against him. “I know you don’t think any less of me when I do, but I need to do this. For me. I need to feel like I’m at least trying to be strong, but when I can’t, I won’t push you away. I promise.”

Buffy pulled back and placed her hands gently on the sides of his head, drawing him close for a tender kiss. “I can handle that, Spike. I’m here, for whatever and whenever you need me… even if what you need is for me to back off. Okay?”

Spike nodded and whispered, “Okay. Thank you, Buffy. For everything.”


	35. Frontier Justice

Bruises  
Chapter 35 – Frontier Justice

Spike’s hand trembled as he reached for the door handle, but he grasped it firmly then just held it, trying to work up enough nerve to actually pull the door open. Buffy laid her hand over his and said quietly, “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

He looked into her concern filled eyes and tried to smile. It felt like a lopsided rictus, but since Buffy smiled back he must have gotten it somewhat correct. He took a deep breath and laid his other hand on top of Buffy’s. “I’ll probably never be ready, pet, so might as well do it now, since we’re here and all.”

She nodded and together they pulled the door open. They stepped through and Buffy led the way toward the only desk that had someone sitting behind it. The remarkably good looking man in a sharp, expensive suit was scowling at his computer as he tapped on the keyboard like it’d just said something disparaging about his mother. The man didn’t look away from the screen as Buffy said pleasantly, “Hi, I’m looking for Detective LeHane.”

He stopped typing long enough to jerk his thumb over his shoulder and grumble, “Interrogation room three,” before resuming his typing with even more force.

Buffy shot the poor keyboard a pitying glance then turned to Spike and he shrugged. “Guess we’ll go lookin’, pet. Place isn’t that big, we’ll find her sooner or later.”

“McDonald!” a voice barked sharply from their right. The man at the desk jumped up and faced the beautiful, dark haired woman who was moving toward him wearing a glare that would’ve made the Terminator wet himself.

“Yes, Chief?”

The woman ignored him and stepped up to Buffy with her hand out. “I’m Lilah Morgan. I apologize for Detective McDonald’s behavior. You’re looking for Faith?”

Buffy nodded and Spike grinned at the way McDonald flinched when Lilah threw another glare over her shoulder. “In my office, Lindsey. Now.”

He mumbled, “Yes, ma’am,” and scurried away.

Lilah watched him for a few seconds then turned back to face Spike. “You must be Spike Pratt.” At Spike’s nod, she held out her hand. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here the other day when you gave your statement, but Faith is one of our most decorated detectives, so you were in good hands.”

Spike reached tentatively for her hand then gripped it firmly and shook it. “No problem, Chief Morgan. I’m sure you’re a busy woman and Detective LeHane has been a consummate professional while at the same time treating me like family. I can certainly understand why she’s won so many commendations.” He let go of her hand and looked nervously toward the back of the station house. “I’d like to thank you for allowing me to do this. I’m sure it’s not normal procedure and I appreciate your time and the time of your personnel.”

Lilah reached out and gently took his elbow. “It’s no problem at all and please call me Lilah. It’s not often that we’re in the position to provide this kind of assistance – mostly we make arrests and fill out reports – but when we can, it reminds us of why we do what we do.” She started gently guiding him in the direction that McDonald had indicated. “We’ve got him set up and ready. Faith and Mr. O’Connor are both with him, so if you’ll come with me, I’ll take you to where you can see him.”

Spike hesitated outside the doorway to the room that Lilah and Buffy had just stepped into because he could hear Faith’s voice. It was faint, so the sound must have been turned down, but he could still hear it and Buffy had assured him that he was only going to see and not hear. He froze completely when he heard a deep male voice with a bit of an Irish lilt. It wasn’t his father’s voice, thank God, but the man had asked a question and Spike looked around wildly, backing away from the door as he tried to get away before his father answered it. Seeing him was one thing… hearing him was another thing entirely and there was no way Spike could deal with that right now. Simply remembering his father’s voice was sending Spike into a blind panic and if he heard it for real…

Buffy looked back when Spike didn’t follow her into the room and saw an empty doorway. She poked her head out and gasped at his panicked expression as he backed down the hallway, shaking his head and muttering, “No, no, no,” under his breath. She followed him until he bumped up against a door at the end of the hallway and wrapped his arms around his middle, his breathing harsh and ragged. 

She whispered, “We can go if you want, Spike. You don’t have to do this.”

He dropped his chin to his chest and tightened his arms and she had to lean close to make out his breathy whisper, “No… need to see him…. just can’t hear him. Can you get her to turn it off?”

Buffy nodded, barely refraining from smacking herself in the forehead. “God, I’m such an idiot! You stay here; I’ll come get you when it’s fixed.” Spike nodded then slid down to the floor, pulling his duster tight around his body as he buried his face in his knees and tried to get himself under control.

Buffy hurried back to the room, bursting through the door with a harsh whisper, “Can you turn off the sound?”

Lilah nodded and stepped to a control panel then flipped a switch. The room went deathly silent and Buffy looked at the four people on the other side of the glass. Faith was leaning back in her chair wearing a satisfied grin as Angel’s dad ticked off points on a piece of paper lying on the table near Spike’s father. The fourth person was a mousy little man with a nervous tic that Buffy assumed was James’ lawyer. 

James didn’t look at all like the monster she knew he was. He had Spike’s cheekbones and his eyes were blue, just not quite as deep a blue as Spike’s. His build was a little broader about the shoulders, but he was lean like Spike and his hair was the same honey blond that Spike’s had been before the bleach job. Mr. O’Connor said something and Buffy’s stomach clenched when James tilted his head and quirked his eyebrow the same way that Spike always did. James looked like Spike’s older brother, not his father, and Buffy was having a hard time reconciling the person who looked so much like the man she loved with the person who had hurt him so terribly. She shuddered and shook her head then startled slightly when Lilah spoke softly. “He doesn’t look like someone who could do those things, does he?”

Buffy turned to face her. “No, he doesn’t, but he did. He’s a sick bastard and he’s so completely lucky that he’s in there and I’m in here or he’d be missing several pretty important pieces of his anatomy.”

Lilah chuckled quietly and nodded toward Faith. “I see that your cousin’s attitude has rubbed off on you.”

Buffy smiled faintly. “Not exactly. All the women in my family are what my Dad calls **spirited**. I’m gonna go get Spike.” She started for the door then stopped and looked back at Lilah. “That sick fuck has no idea that Spike’s here, right?”

Lilah shook her head. “No. As far as he knows, this is just a routine meeting.”

“Good.” Buffy stepped out into the hallway and saw Tara sitting on the floor next to Spike. He wasn’t crouched against the wall anymore, but was leaning against it with his forearms propped on his knees as they talked quietly. 

She walked slowly toward the pair, not wanting to interrupt, and Tara waved her over with a smile. “He’s ready, Buffy.”

Spike looked up at her wearing a much calmer expression. “All sorted?”

She nodded. “Yeah. The sound’s off and he has no idea that you’re here.”

Spike climbed to his feet then offered his hand to Tara. “Let’s get on with it then.”

Buffy laced her fingers with Spike’s and he shot her a grateful look as they stepped into the room. The window that had shown four people around a small table was now a blank gray rectangle. Lilah nodded to it then at the control panel her hand was resting on. “If at any time it becomes too much, you let me know and I’ll drop the shade, all right?”

Spike swallowed heavily then nodded at Lilah. “I’m ready.”

Lilah pushed a button and the gray rectangle started moving up, slowly revealing the room on the other side. Spike blanched and his fingers tightened on Buffy’s as he took a step backwards. She followed him and wrapped her other hand around his bicep, squeezing slightly. “See, Spike? He’s locked up and there’s no way in hell that he’ll be able to get out of here, right, Lilah?”

Lilah nodded. “That’s right, Buffy.” She pointed to the piece of paper that Mr. O’Connor was making tick marks on. “That paper is the list of current charges, and as you can see, it’s quite long. The prison time he’s looking at – even if the judge is lenient… which he isn’t… he’s a tough old bastard – is a minimum of forty years.”

Spike’s eyes snapped to Lilah and he stammered, “F..forty years?”

“Yes, that’s the minimum he’ll have to serve on all the charges before he’s even eligible for parole. The maximum is life, and that’s just for the first degree attempted murder charge.”

Buffy breathed, “Wow.”

Lilah nodded. “And you don’t have to worry about escape, either. We’ve never had a prisoner escape from our jail and the prison he’s likely to be sent to hasn’t had one escape in over twenty years and that happened before they’d upgraded the entire place. You don’t have to worry about him ever getting to you or anyone you care about, Spike. I give you my word.”

Spike nodded then his gaze was drawn back to the room on the other side of the glass as Mr. O’Connor slapped a file folder closed on the table top and leaned back in his chair. Faith got up and left the room as James awkwardly picked up the list of charges and held it in his fingers, the paper trembling minutely as his eyes scanned over the text. The mousy lawyer said something to James and James shook his head, holding up the piece of paper. Spike looked at Lilah and whispered, “I want to hear what he’s saying. Could you turn on the sound?”

Buffy gripped his hand tightly and leaned up to whisper, “You sure?” He nodded curtly, not at all sure that he could handle hearing his father’s voice, but something inside him wanted, no… **needed** to prove, if only to himself, that he was strong enough. That he wasn’t going to let what his father had done to him rule his life. Buffy lifted his arm over her shoulders then wrapped hers around his waist. “Okay. I’m here.”

Spike pressed a kiss to the top of her head and murmured, “Ta, pet,” then he nodded toward the window. “Please, Lilah.”

Lilah nodded then flipped the switch and Spike jerked, wobbling as his legs started to shake, and Tara grasped his other arm, helping Buffy to steady him as James’ voice filled the small room. “… didn’t hire you to help me get out of anything, Milton. You’re just here because they decided I had enough money to pay for a lawyer.” James shook the paper then stabbed at it several times with the index finger of his right hand, his voice increasing in volume with every stab. “I did this and I did this and this. I did this to my wife…” His voice dropped to a whisper as his finger stopped near the bottom of the page. “I did this to the boy.” 

He dropped the paper and covered it with both hands. “And I deserve every single second of whatever sentence the judge gives me.” He closed his eyes and slid the paper across the table toward Mr. O’Connor. “I know I can never make it up to them, what I’ve done is too horrible to ever be forgiven, but I am sorry.” He turned to Milton. “Your job is to make sure they’re taken care of. The business goes to Anne. If she doesn’t want it then complete the sale I started and give her the money. The house goes to the boy. I can’t imagine that he’d ever want to live in it again… not after what he endured there and I don’t blame him, so sell it. I know that giving him money won’t erase anything I did to him and if he won’t take it then set up a trust or something so it’ll be there if he ever needs it.”

Mr. O’Connor picked up the paper and slid it inside the folder wearing a look of utter disgust. “You’re quite the actor, Mr. Pratt, but the judge isn’t likely to be swayed by this ‘show of remorse’ if that’s what you’re going for. And I don’t believe for a second that after attempting to murder your wife and spending almost a full year **torturing** your son that you’re suddenly ‘sorry’ for it. The things you did to that young man make me fervently wish that we were still living in the old west so I could mete out a little ‘frontier justice.’ You disgust me, Mr. Pratt, and I’m finding it extremely difficult to keep from losing my lunch at the very sight of you.” He rose from his chair, placing his palms flat on the table as he leaned forward and loomed over the smaller man. “And believe me when I tell you that I will be giving the judge my **strongest** recommendation for the maximum sentence on **every** charge.”

James swallowed hard and nodded. “I don’t expect you to believe me, but I’m not acting. I disgust myself and I deserve no leniency… I know that. I also know that I deserve no consideration, but I want to ask you for a favor.”

O’Connor’s eyes went wide and he sputtered in indignation, “A favor? **You** have the balls to ask **me** for a **favor**?! Where the hell do you get off thinking that I’d do anything that even remotely benefits you?”

“It’s not for me, it’s for the boy. I want you to make sure he gets help. The things I did and said to him…” James suddenly turned toward the window, his eyes scanning across the glass before fixing on a point somewhere in the middle. “I’m sorry, boy. I know you don’t have any reason to believe me and just saying that I’m sorry will never be anywhere close to enough, but I am sorry.” Then he winked.


	36. Applesauce

Bruises  
Chapter 36 – Applesauce

Spike fell to his knees on the hard floor, pulling Buffy down beside him as he gasped for breath, his eyes still glued to his father on the other side of the window. She wrapped her arm tighter around his waist and tugged him close, speaking quietly, “Spike, you’ve gotta breathe. C’mon, breathe with me.”

James spoke again, the sneer in his voice coming through loud and clear. “Didn’t think I knew you were there, did you, boy? You’re here because you’re missing it, aren’t you? Missing me? Missing all the things I did? I know I am. I think about it all the time… replay it in my head… just like you do. Wish I could see the look on your face right now.” He closed his eyes and licked his lips. “You hurt so pretty, boy. It’s delicious.”

Lilah finally dragged her eyes away from James and flipped the switch; cutting off the sound of his maniacal laughter, then she hit the button to drop the shade before picking up a phone and barking, “Get him out of there! Now! Then I want you to find out which soon to be unemployed son of a bitch told him his son was here!” She slammed the phone down and moved quickly across the room, squatting down in front of Spike. “I am so sorry, Spike. I don’t know how he found out you were here, but whoever told him will be out on their ass just as soon as I find out who it was, I promise.”

Spike shook his head, grasping Buffy’s hand in a white knuckle grip as he continued to fight for air. “C..can’t be here… n..need…” 

Tara grasped Spike’s arm and gently pulled him to his feet, wrapping his arm over her shoulders as she looked at Lilah. “I need a quiet room and the bag I left with the desk sergeant.” 

“My office. I’ll meet you there.” Lilah quickly left the room.

Tara steered a still gasping, shell-shocked Spike and a furious, seething Buffy down the hallway. Spike was leaning heavily on them both, his eyes glassy and his face white as a sheet with bright spots of color high on his cheeks. When they stopped outside the closed door to Lilah’s office, Buffy reached out with her free arm and roughly pushed the door open, startling Lindsey who was perched nervously on the couch. She glared at him as she jerked her thumb over her shoulder and barked, “Out. Now.”

Something in Buffy’s face must have been just as scary as the glare from Lilah that had sent Lindsey scurrying into this room in the first place, because he wasted no time in scurrying back out. He pulled the door shut then leaned back against it until he saw Lilah stalking toward her office wearing a murderous glare that was about a dozen levels more frightening than the one she’d thrown his way earlier. He darted away from her door, suddenly deciding that his latest case, the one he’d been putting the finishing touches on a little while ago, could use a little more investigation. He snagged the file folder off his desk and jammed it into his briefcase as he headed for the garage. _‘Yeah, I’ll put down that I received a tip that led me to Sacramento… San Diego… somewhere… anywhere that’ll keep me away from the station for a few days until whatever’s just happened has blown over… or Lilah’s eviscerated whoever put that look on her face… whichever comes first.’_

Lindsey nodded to Faith and the jailer, Charlie Finn, as he passed them by the interrogation rooms. Faith was wearing a murderous expression just like Lilah and that little blonde girl that had kicked him out of Lilah’s office, so he figured that whatever had gone down must have to do with the Pratt case. He knew that boy in the duster had looked familiar when he’d been standing in front of his desk, but who he was hadn’t registered until he’d been dragged into Lilah’s office looking like he’d been gut shot. He was Pratt’s kid, the one who’d been tortured for almost a year. 

Lindsey was suddenly very glad that he hadn’t been assigned to that case even though he’d been pretty pissed about it at first. It was the biggest case Sunnydale had seen in years, and being the detective to bring the perpetrator to justice could have easily made his career, even though the sick bastard had confessed everything and there wasn’t any actual detecting to be done. Just being named lead on that case could have bumped him a pay grade… maybe two. Now he felt like he’d dodged a very large bullet and he was glad that he’d kept his mouth shut about not getting the case, his nose out of it except for learning the principals involved, and his name off any kind of official documentation dealing with it, because whatever had happened today looked to be monumentally bad. Career ending bad. 

He tossed his briefcase into the car then slid in after it, not bothering to buckle his seat belt as he sped out of the garage and headed for the highway. He’d get some distance, fifty miles or so, before he called in to report his whereabouts. He shuddered slightly as Lilah’s last glare flashed before his eyes and pushed the gas pedal down a little more. Maybe a hundred miles.

XX  
XXXX  
XX

“What are you giving him?”

Tara looked up at Buffy who was carding her fingers through Spike’s hair. “Just a sedative.”

“Like the last one?”

She pushed up the sleeve of Spike’s duster then swiped an alcohol pad over the inside of his elbow. “No. This one won’t put him to sleep or make him loopy, it’ll just… mute things, make his emotions a little easier to handle while he sorts everything out. We’ll get him home and he’ll need to be monitored, but I don’t want anyone to engage him. Just let him be while he works things out in his head.” 

They’d barely gotten Spike through the door into Lilah’s office before he’d collapsed completely, falling face first onto the carpet just as Lindsey had pulled the door shut. Tara and Buffy had both gone down with him and they’d both likely have bruised knees in a few hours. Buffy’s elbow also felt a little weird, like she’d hyper extended it when she’d put her hand down to break their fall. Lilah had come in just as they were picking themselves up, and with her help they’d maneuvered Spike onto the couch, laying his head in Buffy’s lap. He hadn’t moved except to breathe and blink during the twenty minutes Tara had been on her cell phone, consulting with another psychiatrist and a physician about the best course of treatment. At least he wasn’t gasping for air anymore. His breathing was slow and regular, and his face wasn’t stark white anymore, either. His color had returned and he looked completely normal, except for his vacant eyes.

Tara carefully inserted the needle and pressed the plunger, silently noting Spike’s lack of response. Buffy also noticed it and asked quietly, “Are you sure he even needs a sedative? I mean, look at him… he’s catatonic.” 

Tara applied a small bandage to the puncture then cleaned up the small mess she’d made before snapping her bag shut and getting to her feet. “Right now he is, but it’s just one stage of an acute stress reaction. He should come out of it soon and that’s when he’ll need monitoring because he’ll probably be disoriented and might not remember what happened. The sedative will be in effect by then and he’ll need somebody nearby to ground him and remind him of where he is and that he’s safe.” 

“Shouldn’t we take him to the hospital?” She waved at Spike’s inert form. “This isn’t normal, is it? He’s just laying here staring at the ceiling. You’re sure he’ll be ok at my house like this?”

“Yes, he’s not physically in any danger. Actually, there’s nothing wrong with him **physically** , and waking up in a hospital room would only add to his stress, not alleviate it. Let me see if I can explain.” Tara pulled a chair closer to the couch and sat down. “Okay, Spike’s had quite a few major shocks to his system in a very short amount of time. Basically, his entire world has been turned on its ear and although he seems to be handling it when he’s awake, his stress levels have been steadily rising, as shown by his nightmares getting progressively worse. His father knowing he was here and speaking directly to him was the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak, so his mind has basically put up a ‘Gone Fishing’ sign and has retreated to take some time to try to make sense of everything. His body is fine, still plugging away just like it should be, breathing, blood flowing, digesting, and all the other things it would be doing normally…”

Buffy nodded slowly. “But his mind has closed up shop and taken itself off for a spa day, right?”

Tara smiled. “Yes. Once he’s sorted through everything, he’ll come back.” 

“How long will he be like this?”

Tara shrugged. “Could be a few hours, could be a few days, but as strong and intelligent as he is, I don’t expect it to take very long. Because outside stimuli are no longer being dealt with, his brain will be able to devote more energy to figuring things out.”

Tara nodded to Lilah and she opened the office door, admitting two EMTs pushing a wheeled stretcher. “I’ll help get him settled at home, then I’ll come over first thing in the morning and we’ll see where he stands. If he hasn’t come out of this by then I might need to hospitalize him, even though that’s the last thing I want to do, but he’ll need intravenous nourishment and hydration to keep his body running until he comes back.” She moved the chair back then stepped over behind Buffy to get out of the way as the EMTs transferred Spike’s lax form to the stretcher and strapped him down for the trip home.

“And he has to go to my house in an ambulance because…”

Tara laid her hand gently on Buffy’s shoulder. “He’s too heavy for us to move like this and it will be safer and more comfortable for him.” The EMTs started pushing Spike out of the office and Buffy jumped to her feet, trailing closely after them. Tara gently snagged her arm and said quietly, “I’ll ride with him if you want to follow in your car. Lilah will be following also and she’ll bring me back to my car after we get Spike settled.”

Buffy dug in her pocket then pressed her car keys into Tara’s hand. “No, I’ll ride with him. It’s the red Mini parked in the east lot. Just push the unlock button and it’ll beep.” She didn’t wait for a response as she darted out of the office and followed Spike out to the waiting ambulance.

The ride to the house was mostly silent, just the rustling of the EMT’s uniforms as they moved around the tiny space checking Spike’s vitals. Buffy was crammed into a barely there alcove near the front of the ambulance, her knees pressed painfully against the edge of the stretcher as she leaned forward, keeping her face above Spike’s just in case he could see. She wanted him to know that she was there, so she kept herself in his line of sight despite the jostling and jarring of a vehicle in motion. She kept her hands on him as well, one tangled in the curls on the top of his head and the other gently brushing caresses across his forehead as she tried to stay out of the way of the man shining a light into his eyes.

The ambulance pulled up in front of the house and the stretcher was pulled out the back then bumped up the sidewalk to the front porch. The EMTs lifted, tilting it as they carried it up the stairs, then set it back down and pushed Spike into the house. Buffy stood close by while the straps were unfastened then she grasped Spike’s hands and pulled him to a sitting position. One EMT braced him with a hand on the back of the neck while the other slipped the duster off his shoulders and pulled his arms from the sleeves. They gently lifted him and carried him over to the couch, setting him down like he was made of fine china that would shatter at the slightest tap. Buffy picked up the duster and hung it up then moved quickly across the room, climbing over Spike to sandwich herself between his right side and the back of the couch. She nestled her head into the hollow of his shoulder and laid her hand on his chest, tracing light patterns across it with her fingertips.

Joyce was thanking the EMTs just as Tara stepped into the house followed closely by Lilah, Faith, and Mr. O’Connor. The events of the afternoon were explained at length to an increasingly angry Joyce and Giles, and Lilah spent a good ten minutes apologizing profusely and promising dire consequences for the person who had betrayed Spike’s presence to James. Faith backed her up, stating that she had a pretty good idea who it was and when she was sure, that person would wish they’d never been born. Buffy couldn’t see Faith’s face, but she could clearly imagine the look of fury etched on it, fury that came through loud and clear in her voice, and she smiled slightly. Somebody was going to pay.

Buffy tuned out the rest of the conversation, instead concentrating on Spike – listening to his breathing, his heartbeat, and the slight clicking of his throat when he swallowed. He gasped quietly just as a shadow fell across him, prompting Buffy to raise her head. She smiled wanly at Dawn who was standing there staring down at Spike with wide eyes. “What happened to him?”

“He saw his Dad today.”

“Did his Dad hurt him again?”

“No, not physically, but…”

“He was mean and he scared Spike, didn’t he?”

Buffy nodded slightly. “Yeah.”

Dawn’s face took on a thunderous expression that had ‘Pissed Off Summers Woman – Take Cover’ written all over it. “What a jerk! I wish I was bigger so I could go beat him up for picking on our Spike!” 

Buffy smiled at her little sister’s protectiveness as she pointed at Lilah. “See that lady? She’s Faith’s boss and she’s really mad about it, too, so don’t worry. They’ll make sure he gets in trouble.”

Dawn glanced over at the cluster of adults sitting around the dining room table. “Oooh, she looks mean. Good.” She dropped to her knees beside the couch and whispered, “Can I help?”

Buffy started to shake her head then stopped at Dawn’s crestfallen expression and nodded instead. “Sure, Dawnie. You can hold his hand. Let him know you’re there.”

Dawn dropped to her backside and folded her legs criss-cross applesauce then laid her arm on the couch, sliding her hand under Spike’s and giving it a small squeeze. She watched his face for any reaction then sadly caught Buffy’s eyes and shook her head. Suddenly her eyes widened and she gasped, “He squeezed my hand, Buffy! He knows I’m here!”


	37. I'm Quick

Bruises  
Chapter 37 – I’m Quick

Spike slowly blinked as Buffy’s fingertips trailed across his forehead. He’d finally become vaguely aware of her presence and the fact that they were in motion, but he simply couldn’t get his body to respond in any constructive way to the commands of his brain. It was like the wires had been cut somewhere along the line and he was stuck riding along; a passenger in his own head.

He gave up trying to get his body to move and decided to concentrate on what had put him in this state to begin with. His complete shit of a father. _‘The son of a bitch beats me, whips me, terrifies, degrades, and humiliates me for almost a bloody year and then has the wrinklies to say he’s **sorry** for it?’_ He tried to clench his left hand into a fist, but all he managed was a slight twitch of his pinky. _‘He’s sorry all right. Sorry he got caught and can’t get his hands on me anymore. And he wants to give me money?! Thinks he can buy me off?! That I’ll forget everythin’ that bastard did to me for a bit of dosh?! Well, fuck that and the bloody horse it rode in on. I’ll not be bought. I can take care of myself and I can take care of Mum. Even if I have to start sellin’ my soddin’ body parts, I’ll never take a penny from that scum. Never.’_

The motion stopped and Spike was a tiny bit aware of Buffy moving away from him and then he was in motion again, bumping and jostling for a bit then tipped for a few seconds before the motion became smoother. He hardly felt himself being maneuvered and lifted before he was laid down on something soft. The bustle in the room barely filtered through his dimmed consciousness and he tried to chase it, tried to make some sense of what was going on around him, but he couldn’t. It was like trying to catch smoke, so he gave it up as a bad job and retreated back into his thoughts. 

_‘Angel’s Da was right… the whole thing’s a ploy. That disgustin’ wanker’s tryin’ to play the ruddy judge… actin’ like he’s remorseful so the judge’ll take pity on him. He’s realized how big a hole he dug for himself by blatherin’ on ‘bout everythin’ and now he’s tryin’ to fill it in a bit. Least Mr. O’Connor didn’t fall for it. I’ll have to remember to thank him for that if I’m ever in control of my soddin’ body again. And what the hell was that wink right at the end? Was he threatenin’ me? Warnin’ me not to talk? Like that’d make a difference. Accordin’ to Faith, he’s already told ‘em his entire life history and every single thing he’d ever done to me… and planned to do to me… so why threaten me?’_

His eyes widened – well, not really, but if he’d been in control of his body then they would have – as the words his father had spoken after the wink flared brightly across his mind. Spike had been so floored by the seemingly heartfelt apology and the incongruous wink that followed it that his brain hadn’t registered the rest of what James had said… until now. _‘That unbelievable tosser! He can’t beat me anymore, so now he’s gettin’ off on messin’ with me! Playin’ with my mind! Bloody pillock offers me money then bloody ‘apologizes’ knowin’ what it’ll do to me. He’s just usin’ me the only way he still can and I’m lettin’ him. I hurt so pretty he says. That’s why he was laughin’. It’ll get back to him somehow that I practically swooned like some ruddy chit with a case of the vapors and he’ll know he still has control of me. That a few words and a soddin’ wink from him can send me sailin’ right over the edge. I’m bloody pathetic. The bastard didn’t even lay a finger on me and I still collapsed like a cheap foldin’ chair.’_

He tried to sigh, but only managed a weak gasp that was noticed by only one occupant of the room. _‘Not doin’ such a bang up job of provin’ how strong I can be just now, am I? Don’t know why Buffy puts up with me. God knows she could get any bloke she wanted and she goes and picks the most damaged and high maintenance specimen in the lot. Either she’s a closet masochist or she’s got a heart the size of Jupiter.’_

He felt a tear slip out of his eye and track slowly down his cheek. Or he thought he did… could just be something his mind had cooked up, but considering how many times he’d cried over the past week, he sincerely doubted it. _‘And here I go with the nancy boy break down again. God… I should just stay here in this place, locked up in my own head. Let ‘em stash my worthless carcass in some mental ward somewhere so she can forget about me and get on with her life. A life without some weak, pathetic sod clingin’ to her skirts who’s only redeemin’ quality is his ability to imitate a punchin’ bag. She doesn’t need me. Nobody needs me. I’m a useless twat that isn’t even loved by his own father, much less anyone else.’_

With that thought, he let go and stopped trying to fight. He let his mind drift, just letting it float wherever it would for what seemed like ages. Images would flash brightly every so often, making him blink his non-existent eyelids. Some made him smile, some made him laugh, some made him cry, and some made him cringe, but the ones that made him smile and laugh seemed to outnumber the ones that didn’t. Several images kept popping up over and over… his mum, healthy and laughing and looking at him with eyes full of love, Angel looking at him with pride when he’d mastered his first throw, Xander welcoming him to the Scoobies, Milly’s look of certainty that he’d make her proud, Dawn with a bit of ice cream on her nose, even Willow threatening him with a shovel. But the one he saw the most… the one that kept shouldering the others out of the way to get to the front of the line… it was Buffy. Buffy getting ready to leave for practice with her face lit up in joy because he’d told her he loved her.

The feel of a small hand squeezing his pierced the hazy gray barrier that had been blocking almost everything out and jolted him back to whatever passed for awareness in his current state. Dozens of images of the people in his life flickered past at lightning speed and he reeled, shame suddenly flooding him at how easily he’d given up. He smacked himself in the forehead – metaphorically, of course – as he berated himself for his cowardice. _‘You git. What the hell are you doing? You’re surrounded by people who care, people who believe in you. You **are** loved and you **are** needed and, punching bag imitations aside, you have a lot to offer. You must, if someone like Buffy can love you. And she does. She does.’ _

Deep down he **knew** all that – and several people had reiterated those facts to him over the last week – and yet he’d just packed it in with barely a struggle, letting his bastard of a father get the better of him. _And that’s just not cricket, William James Pratt, so you **will** get your shit together and you bloody well **will not** let him win! Those bones running up the middle of your back? That’s your spine, you nit. Use it.’_

He took a deep breath – again, metaphorically – then gave himself the resolve face to end all resolve faces. _‘I can do this. I’ll not let him or what he’s done to me rule my life any longer. He said I missed it… missed the things he did to me. Well, he’s wrong… and I’m going to show him just how wrong he is. He can say whatever he likes, do whatever he likes, laugh himself into a bloody stroke like the nutter he is, but it won’t make any difference. I’ll be unflappable… untouchable… a man. I’m stronger than he realizes and I have people who love me and will help me stay strong. **I’m** in control of me… not him. I can do this. I can. Just have to…’ _

He concentrated with every fiber of his being and squeezed back, clearly hearing the gasp from whoever was holding his hand. Suddenly a flood of stimuli assaulted him – the noise of several people talking quietly in the next room, warmth and slight weight all along his right side, something soft under his head, and his left hand being held tightly by a hand much smaller than his own as he clearly heard, “He squeezed my hand, Buffy! He knows I’m here!”

XX  
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XX

Buffy was lying next to Spike, propped up on her elbow as she watched him sleep. He’d come out of whatever that was pretty quickly then had spent almost half an hour assuring everyone that he was fine, just tired. After Tara had done a quick series of neurological tests, checking for cognitive function, he’d thanked them all for their concern and their assistance then Dawn and Buffy had helped him upstairs to his room. Dawn had stood next to him, keeping her arm protectively around his waist as he’d been hugged by everyone, including Lilah. Even Mr. O’Connor had squeezed him in a quick one-armed hug before Buffy had shooed everyone out, only getting Dawnie to leave by promising that they’d both be there when she got home from school the next day and they’d hang out and watch some more **Firefly**.

She’d been able to tell that he was barely holding himself together, even with the ‘muting stuff’ sedative coursing through him, as she’d helped him out of his clothes and into his sleep pants. She’d crawled in beside him and tucked them both in, wondering if he was going to talk about it, but he’d just laid there for a long time, silently gazing at her face until his eyes had finally drifted shut.

Suddenly he stiffened, his hands clenching into fists, and he shouted, “No!” Buffy sat up, watching him carefully even as she smiled slightly. This nightmare was different, she could tell. Yes, his muscles were tense and he was trembling, but it was from anger this time and not fear. His voice when he’d shouted had been full of fury and Buffy fervently hoped that he was pouring a fifty-five gallon drum of whoop-ass all over his waste of skin father.

She had to duck when Spike suddenly shot to a sitting position, his fist flying out in a vicious swipe. She kicked the blanket off their legs and dove off the end of the bed, narrowly avoiding a nasty punch that would’ve probably taken her head clean off. She rolled to her feet and spun to face the bed just as his face twisted into a furious grimace and he launched another full-powered punch, his fist whistling through the air. _‘Uh… yeah. I think it’s pretty safe to say that Spike is **pissed**. Good. Kick his ass, Spike. Make him sorry.’_

She stood at the end of the bed, watching as he fought the man who’d tormented him for so long, his fists and feet flailing wildly. Her mouth curved into a proud smile when he flipped to his knees and started pounding his fists against the mattress over and over. He was mumbling curses under his breath that were getting steadily louder as he continued to vent his rage on the pillow-top mattress. 

A quiet knocking drew her attention and she snagged her robe, shrugging into it as she stepped quickly to the door. She glanced back over her shoulder just as Spike collapsed face first to the bed, his fists still pounding weakly into the soft surface. She pulled the door open and slipped through the crack, coming face to face with her worried parents. She held a finger to her lips then whispered, “He’s okay. He’s having a nightmare where he’s beating the crap out of something… hopefully his dad.”

Giles reached for his glasses then smiled sheepishly when he realized he wasn’t wearing them. “He is acting out physically? While still asleep?”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah, but it’s cool. The mattress might end up with a few bruises, but yeah… he’s okay. He’ll be okay.”

They both nodded and Joyce whispered, “Just keep out of his way until he wakes up, Buffy. He’d be devastated if he hurt you, even accidentally.”

Buffy pulled them into a quick hug. “I know. I’ll stay out of range and just watch until he’s done with the pummeling.” She let them go and gripped the doorknob. “I’ll yell if I need anything. Love you guys.”

She slipped back into Spike’s room and moved quickly toward the bed. Spike was laying flat on his belly, breathing hard as he gripped the rumpled sheet tight in his fists. She stopped just out of range in case he decided to start swinging again and whispered, “Spike?”

He raised his head just enough to turn his face toward her then he opened his eyes. “Yeah.”

“You okay?”

“I will be.” He turned his head, pressing his forehead into the mattress. “I will be.” He slowly released the sheet and pushed his torso up, raising himself to his knees. He looked around at the twisted bedding and the divots his fists had left – mostly on Buffy’s side of the bed – then his eyes widened and his gaze snapped to Buffy. “Oh God, I didn’t hurt you, did I? Please tell me I didn’t hit you.”

Buffy sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out, lightly laying her hand on his knee. “You came close, but I’m quick. I’m fine, Spike. I’m fine.”

He pulled her tight against his chest for a few seconds then pushed her back, closely looking her over. “You’re sure?”

“I am. I was awake when the nightmare started so I was able to get out of your way when you started wailing on him. It was your Dad you were pounding on, wasn’t it? And you completely wrecked him, right?”

Spike nodded as he dropped his gaze to the bed. “Yeah. I beat him worse than he’d ever beaten me. Kept hitting him even when it was obvious he wasn’t getting up. I couldn’t stop, Buffy, I couldn’t stop.” He looked up at her with haunted eyes. “What kind of person does that make me? I’m just like him, aren’t I? Just as demented, just as sick.”

Buffy wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug. “It was a dream, Spike. You’re nothing like him. You didn’t hit him because you like hurting people. You fought back against someone who was hurting you. You’d never do the things he did… NEVER… because that’s not you. You’re a good person, in spite of everything that’s happened to you, you’re still a good person.”

Spike wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight. “Yeah.” He pushed her back and looked her over again. “You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?”

Buffy leaned close and kissed him gently. “I’m sure. The bed might be a little sore in the morning, but I’m fine.” She leaned back and nodded toward the scattered pillows. “Think you can sleep some more? We’ve still got a few hours before I have to get up for school.”

He nodded and they both climbed off the bed to straighten the bedding and put the pillows back in their original positions. When everything was fixed, they climbed back in and Buffy snuggled up to Spike, wrapping her arm over his waist as she laid her head on his chest. He pressed a light kiss to the top of her head and whispered, “I love you, Buffy.”

She murmured, “Love you, too, Spike.”

He lay there quietly until her even breathing signaled that she’d fallen asleep. His own eyelids were drooping and trying to close, so he kept pinching himself hard on the inside of his thigh as he fought against slumber. He had to stay awake, stay alert. He wasn’t safe to be around as long as he could be taken over by his nightmares. His pinches got fewer and further between as sleep snuck up on him and his hand dropped off his leg and thumped to the mattress.


	38. Resignation

Bruises  
Chapter 38 – Resignation

Spike jerked awake with a strangled yell and clenched fists then lay there breathing hard for a few minutes. Once his nerves were somewhat under control, he sneaked a peek at Buffy. She was still sprawled over his chest, snoring lightly, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He’d managed to wake himself before he’d gotten too far into the nightmare, but damn, that had been close.

He slithered out from under Buffy, being careful not to wake her, then slid off the edge of the bed. He sat on the floor with his forearms propped on his drawn up knees and laid his head back against the bed, trying again not to fall asleep. When he jerked awake for the second time, he got to his feet and started pacing. _‘Only an hour and a half to go before the alarm goes off.’_

He was checking the carpet between the bed and the bathroom door to make sure he hadn’t worn a path when the clock on the night table started screeching. Buffy rolled over and smacked at it a few times before her hand hit the snooze button with a little more force than was strictly necessary. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and blearily looked over at him. “You’re up already? Another nightmare?”

He pasted a smile on his face and stepped toward the bed. “No, just had to use the loo. Was plannin’ to catch a bit more kip, if that’s all right.”

“That’s fine. You don’t see Tara until five, so you’ve pretty much got all day to sleep if you want.”

He crawled back into bed and Buffy snuggled up to him until the alarm started blaring again. This time, she crawled on top of him to turn it off then settled on his chest, her legs straddling his hips. “Don’t wanna go.” She pressed her lips to his as she threaded her fingers into his hair. They kissed slowly and gently for several minutes until a quick rapping on the door caused them to part with mutual groans.

“Are you two decent?” came Joyce’s voice from the other side of the barrier.

Buffy called out, “Almost,” as she reluctantly slid out from under the covers, gently kissing him one more time before she stood up next to the bed and slipped into her robe. She tied the belt then sighed at the door, “Come in, Mom.”

Joyce opened the door and stepped into the room. “Good morning.” She looked at Spike’s sleepy countenance and a slight frown crossed her face. “Didn’t you sleep at all after your nightmare, Spike? You look exhausted.”

He pasted on that smile again. “Slept as well as can be expected, I suppose, but yes, I’m a bit knackered.”

“Well, you go ahead and get some sleep. Angel’s downstairs if you need anything and I’ll leave your breakfast in the fridge. Oh, Lilah said she’d like to speak to you sometime this afternoon, if you’re up to it. I think she wants to apologize again.”

Spike nodded slowly, his eyelids starting to droop. “I’ll see if Angel will drive me over. Thanks, Joyce.”

Joyce gave a quick nod then looked at Buffy. “Your breakfast is ready, so you’d better hurry if you don’t want to be late.”

“Okay, Mom. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” She didn’t move from her spot by the bed until Joyce had pulled the door closed then she bent down and caught Spike’s lips in another gentle kiss. “I’ll see you at lunch or after school, okay?”

Spike smiled sleepily at her and murmured, “I’ll try to make lunch, pet. Have a good day. Love you.”

Buffy ran her fingers through his hair and said quietly, “Love you, too,” then she reached down and unplugged the clock.

XX  
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XX

Charlie Finn was nervous. Yeah, he’d been inside the interrogation rooms before, escorting prisoners back and forth, but he’d never had to sit at the table and now he’d been sitting at the table for almost three hours. Lilah had been waiting for him this morning when he’d punched in and had brought him to this room, telling him to sit before leaving without another word. It was a familiar technique – leave the accused sitting alone in a tiny room and let them stew in their own juices for a while, wondering what was going to happen – only he didn’t know just what he was being accused of.

As far as he knew, he’d done nothing wrong… well, nothing that the police should know about anyway. Sure, he’d done some things in his time on the planet that some would consider to be less than upstanding, but all that had stopped about four months ago. His boy had grown a set, apparently, and had started to resist, finally ending Charlie’s almost nightly ‘visits’ to his room with a vicious punch that had almost broken his jaw. He’d had to take a week off work just to avoid the questions he knew he’d be asked about why the right side of his face was one big bruise. Couldn’t very well tell anyone that Riley had done it, now could he? How would that look?

Charlie squirmed in his chair as he fidgeted with his empty bottle of water, wishing he hadn’t been stupid enough to drink it. Another familiar technique – let the accused polish off a bottle of water then deny them the use of a bathroom, making their discomfort that much more pronounced – although this technique was generally frowned upon because anyone that had a lawyer worth his fee would definitely be encouraged to bring it up to the judge, and ‘torturing’ technically ‘innocent until proven guilty’ citizens was a good way to find yourself out of a job. Charlie didn’t have a lawyer, not that he thought he needed one.

The door suddenly flew open and Lilah strode through followed by LeHane. The two dark-haired women silently took the chairs on the opposite side of the table and Faith plunked down a fresh bottle of water and an empty plastic cup as she smiled over at him. “How’s it going, Charlie? You doing all right? Need something to drink?” She cracked open the lid on the water bottle and started slowly dripping water into the cup.

Charlie squirmed in his seat again and pressed the heel of his hand to his bladder, trying to wish the sensation away. It wasn’t working. “Why am I in here?”

Lilah slapped a manila file folder down on the table then lifted the cover just enough to slip something out, her piercing glare focused fully on Charlie’s face as she slid a surveillance photo across the surface. It was a picture from the camera mounted in the hallway outside the row of jail cells. “Do you recognize this man?” She pointed to someone who was standing outside James Pratt’s cell, apparently talking to him.

Charlie nodded. “Yeah, that’s me. So? It’s not against policy to talk to the prisoners and Jimmy and I have been friends since the second grade. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Lilah smiled – and it wasn’t a sweet smile – as Faith continued to slowly drip water into the cup. “True, conversing with the prisoners isn’t against policy. However, revealing confidential information that was **specifically** designated as off limits for conversation is.”

Faith slid the now three-quarters-full cup across the table toward Charlie, making sure to slosh the liquid around as much as possible, then smirked at his pained grimace. “And the news that Pratt’s severely traumatized son was coming to the station was **specifically off-limits** information, Finn. And don’t try to tell me that you didn’t **know** it was off-limits, because I distinctly remember telling you that it **was** ,” she tapped the time stamp on the bottom of the surveillance photo, “about twenty minutes before this was taken.”

“Well… shit.” Charlie squirmed as he stared at the photo, trying to figure out just how much trouble he was in. He’d known that telling Jimmy about his kid’s visit was against policy, but he’d never figured to get caught doing it. Jimmy was his friend and there was no way he believed that Jimmy had done any of the shit his kid was accusing him of. Sure, maybe Jimmy had been a little too heavy handed with the discipline, but abuse? Seriously? Boys were tough; therefore they needed a tougher hand to keep them in line. And Charlie had seen the way the kid was dressed as they were wheeling him out to the ambulance. It was no wonder Jimmy had had to be so hard on him. The kid was a punk. Probably spent more time back-talking Jimmy than doing anything else.

Basically, Charlie was of a mind that Jimmy had been simply performing his duty as a caring father. Doing his damndest to keep his rebellious teenage son from veering too far off the path and ending up as a drug addict or a criminal, and now he was being persecuted for following the adage of ‘spare the rod and spoil the child.’

Of course, Charlie hadn’t been privy to the entire case file, not needing that information to do his job, so all he had to go on was what he already knew of Jimmy’s character and what Jimmy had told him, and Jimmy had painted himself with a practically blameless brush, putting the reason for every action he’d committed squarely on his son’s shoulders. ‘He made me hit him… I had no choice,’ was the line most often repeated as Charlie had commiserated with his sorry position by telling him of his troubles controlling his own son. He’d told Jimmy about disciplining Riley… and just **how** he’d disciplined him, nodding sagely when Jimmy had told him that he’d been about to move to that stage, but then the boy had started tossing around untrue accusations and… well… here they were, jailer and prisoner. Charlie had knocked on wood, telling Jimmy that if Riley ever grew a big enough pair to actually go to the authorities, then Charlie would probably end up in the cell next to Jimmy’s, because apparently their views on the proper way to raise a child weren’t widely accepted by society.

Lilah jerking the photo back across the table startled him out of his thoughts and he looked up at her warily. She slipped the photo back into the folder then extracted a single sheet of paper, sliding it across the table. He glanced down at it then back up at her scowling face. “What’s this?”

“Your resignation. Sign it.”

“I’m being fired? You can’t do that!”

“No, you’re resigning, and yes, I can. You knowingly broke policy, and by doing so, you’ve drastically set back the recovery of an innocent young man, the very person we were meant to protect.”

“That picture doesn’t prove anything! I was standing outside his cell! So what? You can’t fire me because of a picture!”

Lilah practically snarled, “You’re lucky I’m not arresting you… yet. I’d have Faith slap the cuffs on you right now but I don’t want you to be an employee of the city when that happens.”

“Arresting me? For what?”

Faith looked over at him in disgust. “Those cameras record audio now, dumbass. They were installed that week you were on your ‘fishing trip,’ if that’s really what you were doing, so we **do** have proof of you telling Pratt about his son, and… other things.” Charlie’s face drained of all its color and he suddenly felt faint as Faith’s hand thumped to the table next to the paper then withdrew, leaving a pen behind. “Sign it. I don’t want to look at you any longer than I have to. You make me sick.”

Charlie numbly reached for the pen and scrawled his signature across the bottom of the paper without even looking to see what it said, then he jerked slightly when Lilah snatched the paper back and slipped it into the folder. “Child Protection Services is on their way to the school to take custody of your son and then they’ll come here to talk to you. I suggest you cooperate with their investigation.”

Faith got to her feet and stepped around the table, knocking hard on the door. It opened and she jerked it wide, glaring at Charlie over her shoulder. “And then I’ll be back to arrest you, you sorry piece of child molesting shit.”


	39. Heads Up

Bruises  
Chapter 39 – Heads Up

Spike rolled over with a groan and reached out for the warm body he’d been dreaming about, but felt only cool sheets. He opened his eyes a crack then blinked in the pitch black room. He rolled over the other way, searching for the dim red numbers of the alarm clock, and was met with nothing but more darkness. His breathing started to accelerate as his disorientation grew. The last thing he remembered was Buffy kissing him in his morning sun drenched room, so why was it so dark now? How long had he slept?

He felt for the edge of the bed then reached hesitantly toward where the night table should be. It was still there, solid and sturdy under his fingers as they slid along the polished wood surface and bumped into the hard plastic of the alarm clock. So it was still there, too, just not working. Maybe the power had gone out, but no, it should still be light outside. Even if he’d slept all day, surely Buffy or Dawn would have woken him when they returned from school, or at the very least, in time for his appointment with Tara.

He scooted closer to the edge of the bed then carefully stood up, reaching blindly ahead as he took shuffling steps toward the door. His outstretched fingers met with the rough wood grain and he fumbled for the doorknob then swept the door open, blinking in the bright light that assailed him from the hallway. 

He turned back to the room as he flipped on the light switch by the door. No wonder it was so dark. Someone had hung a thick, black quilt over the windows, effectively sealing out the sunlight. He noticed a note propped up against his small stack of books and smiled at his name scrawled across the front, the heart over the ‘I’ bigger than on the last note. He sat down on the bed and opened it.

_Spike,_  
If you’re reading this, then you woke up before I got home. You looked really tired, so I unplugged the alarm clock and covered the windows so you’d be able to sleep without being bothered.   
Angel said he’d hang out until you woke up or I got home, whichever came first, so he should still be downstairs.  
There’s food in the fridge for you, in case you don’t remember Mom telling you that, so make sure you eat. I have some plans for later tonight and you’ll need the energy.  
See you later, I love you.  
Buffy 

Spike slipped the note into his book with the other one then stood up and stretched. He was just about to make his way to the bathroom when he realized something; he hadn’t had another nightmare. Yeah, he’d dreamed, but all his dreams had been good… great, actually… and they all – the bits he could remember, anyway – had been about Buffy. 

A huge smile lit his face as he remembered the line in her note about him needing energy for later and he headed for the bathroom with a spring in his step. He emerged twenty minutes later in a cloud of steam with a towel wrapped around his waist and yelped, jumping back in surprise as he clutched at his chest over his heart. “Christ, Angel! You tryin’ to kill me?”

Angel laughed from his position on the end of the bed. “No, but I was starting to wonder if there was somebody in the bathroom who was. What exactly were you singing in there? Sounded like somebody was trying to strangle you… while you were submerged in a tub full of pudding.”

Spike smirked as he moved toward his dresser. “A song by the Sex Pistols. Great tune.”

Angel chuckled. “If you say so.”

Raising one hand to throw Angel a two-finger salute, Spike used the other to dig a t-shirt out of his drawer. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven.”

Spike nodded as he turned around, tugging the shirt over his head. “Didn’t sleep that long then. Good.”

“Any nightmares?”

Spike shook his head as he dug for a pair of jeans. “Not since late last night. All the dreams I’ve had since Buffy left for school have been… amazing.”

“You think you’re over them?”

Spike shrugged then stepped into his jeans and pulled them up, letting the towel drop to the floor as he did up the buttons. “Don’t know. Guess I’ll find out tonight, but the last one I had was different, so maybe I am. Bloody well hope so.”

Angel got up off the bed and followed him back into the bathroom then watched silently as Spike gelled his hair and artfully spiked it. He got a look from the blond that dared him to say anything when Spike picked up his kohl pencil. Angel held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Do whatever you want, man, it’s your face.”

Spike grinned then carefully applied the kohl, smudging it just so with his fingertip. He quickly brushed his teeth and applied a small splash of cologne then scooped his jewelry out of the small dish on the counter, sliding his rings onto his finger and thumb as he brushed past Angel. He clasped his necklace on then awkwardly fixed his bracelets around his wrists before fishing a pair of socks out of his drawer. “Just need to get my boots and coat and we can go.” 

When his boots were on, he snagged his duster out of the closet and slipped into it, checking his reflection in the mirror on the wall by the bathroom door. “Right then. I’m ready.”

Angel stood looking at him, noting the greater sense of confidence in his posture. “Ready for what?”

Spike turned, his duster flaring, and beamed a smile at Angel. “For anything… everything.”

XX  
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XX

Spike slouched further down in his chair and sighed. He’d been told to wait because Mr. Giles wanted to see him and he’d been sitting there for almost fifteen minutes. He was going to miss Buffy’s lunch period altogether if he had to wait much longer.

The door to Mr. Giles’ office swung open and Mr. Pryce stepped through, followed by Mr. Gunn. Spike’s eyes widened at their presence then his face froze in shock when Riley Finn shuffled through after them, his eyes red and puffy. Mr. Giles had an arm over his shoulders and was saying something quietly into Riley’s ear. Riley nodded then turned toward Gunn, freezing when he noticed Spike. His face flushed in shame and he hurried for the door, missing the handle on the first try in his haste to vacate the premises. Gunn laid a soothing hand on his shoulder then reached around him and opened the door.

Riley darted through as soon as the opening was large enough for his frame and Gunn shot Spike a sad smile. “See you later, Spike. You’re looking good, by the way.”

Spike just nodded as Gunn followed Riley down the hall, then he startled slightly when Mr. Pryce spoke from his right. “Spike, you look well. How are you faring after your visit with your father yesterday?”

Spike looked up at him. “All right, I guess. Had a bit of an episode directly following, as I’m sure you’ve heard, but I’m better now.”

Wes threw a glance at the door then reached his hand out toward Spike. “I’d like to stay and chat, but…”

Spike grasped his hand and shook it. “No worries, Mr. Pryce. If you need to see me, I’ll be around whenever you have time.” He nodded toward the hallway. “He looks like he needs your assistance a lot more than I do at the moment.”

Wes smiled slightly and headed for the door. “Yes, well… I’ll contact you soon, Spike.”

“All right,” Spike said to an empty doorway.

Mr. Giles cleared his throat as he motioned toward his office. “Spike, I’d like a word with you, if you don’t mind.”

Spike got to his feet and followed Mr. Giles into his office with a murmured, “Yes, sir.”

After they were both settled into their chairs, Giles said quietly, “You had quite an ordeal yesterday and I would like to know how you’re coping.”

“I’m getting there, sir. Might have a few rough patches left to navigate, but overall, the road seems a lot clearer.”

“Good. Good. Although I am glad that you seem to be doing better, that is not why I’ve asked you here. I have something of some importance that I would like to discuss with you and I want you to feel free to give me your true opinions on the matter. I don’t want you to feel that you must acquiesce in deference to my position. I am not speaking to you now as the Principal of this school, but rather as the head of household, so please don’t feel the need to temper your feelings.”

Spike nodded. “All right, sir. I’ll do my best to give you my honest take on whatever it is you want to talk about.”

“I… uh… wanted to speak with you in regards to Mr. Finn.”

Spike’s eyebrow quirked. “What about him?”

“He left here in the company of Mr. Pryce and Mr. Gunn, as I’m sure you noticed.”

“I did.”

“Yes, and, well… I would like to ask if you would be amenable to… um… you see, he’s been…”

“He’s been removed from his home and you want to know if I’m all right with him staying at your house?”

Giles nodded. “Yes, that’s it exactly. He wouldn’t be there for more than two weeks or so, just until Mr. Pryce can secure him an emergency placement in the state group home. It would appear that his… uh… current mental state precludes permanent placement with a foster family.”

“It’s **your** house, sir. Don’t see that I have any right to tell you who can or can’t stay there.”

“You are quite right, of course, it is my house, but as you are in residence, and will be for the foreseeable future, you do have a say in…”

“Whether or not the git who’s made it his life’s work to pound me into the ground every time he lays eyes on me should have full access to me in what should be a place of refuge?”

“Uh… well, when you put it that way…”

“How bad was it?”

“Pardon? I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“What his Da did to him. How bad was it? I don’t need details as I’m sure you couldn’t give them to me anyway, but… was it just beatings or was it… more?”

“Oh. Um… both, actually. Since he was nine.”

Spike closed his eyes and laid his head back on the chair with a quiet, “Bloody hell, that explains a lot.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Spike meandered down the hallway, weaving in and out of different clumps of students as they collected things from their lockers or made their way to their next class. He didn’t notice the multitude of stares aimed in his direction, some questioning, some bashful, and some lustful, as he rounded the corner for the hallway leading to the cafeteria. _‘Riley Finn. Just what I needed. Finally seem to be clawing my way to the surface and now I’ve got Riley bloody Finn to contend with. Least he’ll be on the third floor so I won’t have to see him much, I hope. Bugger.’_

He slipped through the open door into the cafeteria and looked around for Buffy’s blonde head amongst the sea of California blondes. Spying her at their regular table, he slid up behind her, holding his finger over his lips as Xander looked up and caught his gaze. He smiled as he bent down and nuzzled her neck then nipped at her earlobe, her squeak of surprise catching the notice of several people at the surrounding tables. She elbowed him lightly in the chest and playfully taunted, “You’d better knock that off or my boyfriend will be really pissed. He’s a jealous guy.”

Spike caught the teasing tone of her voice and played along, “So where is this ‘boyfriend’ of yours? Don’t see him here, so I guess it’s finders keepers, now isn’t it, pet?”

Buffy giggled as she pulled him down to the bench beside her, leaning close to snuggle into his chest. “Guess so.” She sat up and pecked him quickly on the lips. “You’re pretty cute so I guess you’ll do.”

Xander groaned, “Ok, that’s enough. I’m getting diabetes over here from all the sweet.”

Spike smirked at him then leaned into Buffy, nuzzling at her neck. “Can we go somewhere? Need to talk to you ‘bout something.”

She pulled back with a worried frown. “What’s wrong?”

He nodded toward the door. “Nothing’s _wrong_ , exactly, but I’d rather not talk ‘bout it here, all right?”

“Yeah, okay.” Buffy stood up and collected her books. “Xan, can you dump my tray for me?” He nodded and she stepped away from the table. “See you later.”

Spike followed her out of the cafeteria and down the hall to her locker, again not noticing the stares aimed in his direction, then waited quietly while she stuffed her books into it. She shut the door then took his hand and started down the hallway. “Library?”

“Yeah, that’ll do.”

She glanced nervously back over her shoulder. “Gonna give me a hint? Did I do something?”

He moved up beside her and draped his arm over her shoulders, pulling her tight against his side. “No, luv, you haven’t done anything. Just need to give you a heads up ‘bout something, is all.” He held open the library door and ushered Buffy through then led her to the far back corner. When they were safely ensconced in the Ancient Civilizations section, he leaned against the stacks with a tired sigh, “Don’t know how you’re gonna take this news, pet.”

Buffy stepped close and slipped her arms inside the duster then leaned up to nibble at Spike’s neck. “Well, before you tell me, I need something.”

Spike wrapped his arms around her and groaned quietly as she pulled his earlobe into her mouth. “And what’s that?”

“My Spike smoochies. Haven’t had any since this morning and I’m jonesing pretty bad.”

Spike chuckled low and dipped his head, pressing their foreheads together. “So I’m meant to be your enabler, is that it?”

Buffy grinned. “Not my enabler, my dealer. So cough ‘em up.”

Spike whispered, “Yes, ma’am,” and caught her lips in a kiss that started out slow and gentle and ended up with both of them clutching at each other and panting harshly.

Buffy rested her forehead on Spike’s chest just below his throat and breathed out, “Wow.”

Spike pressed his cheek to the top of her head and pulled her tighter against him. “That hold you for a while?”

“Yeah, at least until I get home, then I’ll need another hit.” She raised her head and looked him in the eye. “So what’s the heads up about?”

“Finn.”

“Riley? What about him? Did he attack you or something?”

“No, but apparently he and I have somethin’ in common, luv. He’ll be movin’ into your house later today after he’s finished at the police station.”


	40. Trouble

Bruises  
Chapter 40 – Trouble

“You can’t be serious. I’ve spent the last few days teaching you how to defend yourself against the guy that’s moving into your house later today?”

Spike nodded as Angel’s car whizzed through the lunchtime traffic. “Yeah. The bloke that’s made my life hell… well, my school life anyway… is gonna be one floor up. Isn’t that grand?”

“Why’d you agree?”

Spike shrugged. “It’s not my place to tell Mr. Giles who he’s allowed to invite into his home. I’m just a guest there as well, and if I start makin’ demands… tellin’ him what he can and can’t do with the house he’s paid for… I might find myself out on my arse.”

“They wouldn’t kick you out for not wanting Riley under the same roof.”

“Maybe not, but I’m not really in a position to be able to take that chance. My Mum’s still in hospital and because I’m a minor I can’t go home, not that I’d want to, and I don’t start work for three more days, so it’ll be a while ‘fore I get my first paycheck… not that I could get my own flat anyway, what with the still bein’ a minor and all. I’m stuck, Angel. My only other option is bein’ locked up in a state run juvenile facility ‘til I turn eighteen, and that means no Mum, no Buffy, and no you, so I can’t do anythin’ to wear out my welcome at Buffy’s. I’ll just have to put up with Finn bein’ there and hope like hell he’s not cracked enough to try to kill me in my sleep.”

“I’d let you stay at my house, but since my Dad’s prosecuting your case…”

“Yeah, it’d probably be a conflict of interest or something. Thanks, though.”

Angel threw Spike a sideways glance. “You told Buffy about it, right?” Spike nodded. “And?”

“She was a bit… upset. Did you know that when she’s extremely angry, her face turns a fetching shade of plum?” 

Angel chuckled slightly and nodded. “Yeah, and so do all the people who were standing in the hallway the day I got suspended. I thought her head was gonna explode.”

Spike smiled over at Angel then sighed. “Think I managed to get her calmed down ‘fore I had to leave, though.”

Angel chuckled again. “I’d hate to be in her way if you didn’t.” His car glided to a stop in the hospital parking lot and he turned it off. “You sure you want me to come with you?”

Spike nodded as he climbed out of the car. “Yeah. You’re my best mate, Angel, of course I want you to meet my Mum. She’s unconscious, though, so don’t expect a lot of conversation.”

Angel smirked and bumped Spike’s arm as he fell into step beside him. “Like anybody can get a word in edgewise with you around anyway.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Buffy burst through the door with a screeched, “How could you!? Have you gone completely crazy?!”

The two students sitting in front of Giles’ desk startled and pressed back into their chairs at the furious plum color of their head cheerleader’s face. Giles slowly removed his glasses and set them on the desktop then motioned toward the door. “Nathan, Tiffany, if you would please have a seat in the outer office, we will finish discussing what should NOT happen in the cleaning supplies closet during your lunch period after I’ve dealt with this. Thank you.”

Nathan and Tiffany wasted no time scurrying out of the Principal’s office. Nathan slowed his scurrying long enough to pull the door quietly shut as he fervently hoped that whatever was about to happen would distract Mr. Giles from the fact that the janitor had found him on his knees with his head beneath Tiffany’s skirt. He’d be grounded until he was old enough to pick out a nursing home if Mr. Giles told his dad about this. He shuddered as he took a seat next to Tiffany and reached out to grasp her hand. _‘Please let the crazy cheerleader make Mr. Giles forget all about us.’_

Giles waited until the door was firmly shut before he stood and fixed Buffy with a baleful glare. “How dare you barge in here like this! What on earth has gotten into you?”

Buffy screeched again, “Gotten into me? What about you? You’re going to let Riley Finn, the dickhead who’s been beating the shit out of Spike since he moved here, stay at our house? Where Spike is? Have you lost your mind?”

Giles slammed his hand down on the desktop with a resounding crack. “I am of quite sound mind, young lady, but I’m beginning to believe you may not be. You will control yourself immediately. Sit down.”

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “I’ll stand.”

“You will sit down if you want to have any kind of discussion on this matter. Otherwise, you may remove yourself from my presence and we will discuss your deplorable behavior at home. We will also discuss your punishment for this display.”

Buffy’s mouth dropped open and she shrieked, “You’re going to punish me for protecting my boyfriend!?”

Eyes full of ice settled on the small blonde woman. “No, I’m going to punish you for your blatant disrespect not only of my position as head of this school, but also my position as your father. You were not raised to treat me like this, Buffy, and I won’t stand for it. I realize that you’re upset, but had you come to me without the shouting and hysterics we might have been able to have an adult discussion. As it stands, you will leave. You will finish out your classes for the day then go straight home where you will await my arrival alone in your room.” 

Buffy opened her mouth to apologize – she’d never seen Giles this angry before and she suddenly realized where the nickname ‘Ripper’ had come from – but Giles held up his hand. “Not another word. Get out.”

Buffy nodded silently and turned, stopping with her hand on the knob when Giles spoke quietly. “Even though I am quite angry with you right now, Buffy, I still love you.” Buffy squeezed her eyes shut, a lone tear dripping down her cheek as she pulled the door open and fled.

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Spike stepped through the front door and hung up his duster before walking into the living room. No Buffy. He checked the dining room and kitchen then bounded up the stairs. “Buffy? You up here?” He poked his head into his room, frowning when he found it empty.

A small noise drew his attention and he looked at the closed door to Buffy’s room. There it was again; a muffled sob. He stepped quietly to the door and knocked lightly. “Buffy? Are you all right? Can I come in?”

The door opened a few inches and Buffy’s tear stained face appeared as she shook her head. “No and no.”

Spike’s face fell and he backed up. “Oh. Um… I’ll just leave you alone then. ‘M sorry to have bothered you.” 

He turned to leave and her arm shot through the opening, her fingers grasping his sleeve. “Spike, it’s not you. I… I did something and now I’m in trouble. I’m supposed to stay in my room by myself until Dad gets home to discuss my punishment.”

Spike turned back around with a barely concealed flinch at the word _punishment_. “What did you do, Buffy?”

Her hand fell away and she leaned heavily on the door frame. “After you left, I went to Dad’s office and yelled at him and called him crazy and there were other kids in there and… I was just so mad, Spike. How can he do this to you? After all you’ve been through?”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine, pet. Finn won’t be here that long, so I’ll just stay in my room as much as I can. Does my bedroom door have a lock on it?”

“Yeah, it does, but that’s not the point. Riley shouldn’t be here at all. You shouldn’t have to be afraid here, Spike. You feeling safe is the whole point of you being here, so Riley can just go somewhere else.”

Spike sighed and looked down at his boots. “He’s got the same right to be here as I do, Buffy. We’ve both paid the price of admission, and actually, he’s paid a bit more than I have.”

Buffy opened her door fully and stepped into the hallway. “What do you mean, he’s paid more?”

Spike swallowed hard. “His father did worse things to him than mine did to me and for a lot longer. I just got beaten… he got beaten and…”

Buffy gasped and her hand flew to her mouth as she whispered, “Molested.”

Spike nodded, still looking at his boots. “Yeah. I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout this all afternoon and even though he’s the wanker that’s been poundin’ on me for as long as he’s known me… and I should hate him and think he deserves everythin’ that’s happened to him, but… God, Buffy, nobody deserves that, not even Finn.”

Buffy reached out and gently lifted Spike’s chin. “So what are you saying? You’re okay with him being here?”

Spike shrugged. “Maybe… not really… I don’t know, pet, but I do know what he’s going through right now. I should, considerin’ it happened to me just last week. His whole life has gone arse over tit just like mine did, but I have somethin’ he doesn’t… you, Angel, my Mum… who does he have? Anybody? At all?”

Just then the front door banged open and Dawn barreled through, tossing her backpack on the dining room table before veering sharply toward the living room. “Spike? Buffy? It’s time for **Firefly**!”

Buffy frowned at the stairs. “Crap. Dad’s home. You should go down and watch with Dawn. He’ll be even madder if he finds you up here and me out of my room. I’m already getting punished for screaming at him at school and I don’t want to make it any worse.”

Spike’s eyes were wide and frightened when he turned back from looking at the stairs to face Buffy. “He won’t… hurt you… will he? ‘Cause I’ll not leave you alone with him if…”

Buffy stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Spike, burying her face in his chest. “No, he won’t hurt me. I’ll probably be grounded and put on dishes or bathroom cleaning duty or something, but that’s it, Spike. Giles has never raised a hand to me, Mom, or Dawn, so don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’ll be dishpan hands can’t go anywhere but school for a month or so Buffy, but I’ll be fine.” She pulled back and leaned up for a quick kiss. “You’d better go. If Dad lets me, I’ll be down in a little while. I love you.”

Spike searched her face as he backed tentatively toward the top of the stairs. “Okay, pet, if you’re sure?”

Buffy gave him a watery smile, “I am. When I was ten I spilled Pepsi all over a first edition signed copy of some book he’d paid a ton of money for and all he did was talk to me for hours then ground me from the TV for two months. He won’t hurt me, Spike, I promise, unless you count not being able to go to the mall for a month. That’s gonna hurt.”

Spike nodded with a small smile. “Okay then. Hopefully I’ll see you later. Love you.” He turned and started for the stairs, hearing Buffy’s door close softly behind him. The opening theme of **Firefly** drifted to him as he stepped off the bottom stair and met Giles stepping out of the living room. Spike cleared his throat and asked quietly, “Is Buffy in very much trouble, sir?”

Giles stopped and considered the young man standing at the foot of the stairs with his head bowed and his eyes glued to the toes of his boots. “Some, yes, but not as much as she has been in the past. We will discuss her behavior and then I’ll decide on an appropriate punishment.” He noticed Spike’s flinch and reached out to gently grasp his arm. “Spike, I’m not going to hurt her, you have my word.”

“She told me that…” Spike looked up quickly then dropped his gaze. “I know she’s not meant to see me just now, but that’s my fault, sir. She was trying to explain… and I didn’t leave like she asked me to… so please don’t…”

“It’s all right, Spike, I understand, and she isn’t in any more trouble because you were talking to her.”

Spike whispered, “But it’s because of me that she’s in trouble at all.”

“Spike! You’re missing it! Come on!”

Spike raised his head and looked toward the living room. “Be there in a moment, Niblet.” His eyes found the eyes of the older man still grasping his arm. “I’m sorry, sir, and whatever…” he swallowed hard, “p..punishment you deem appropriate for Buffy I’ll serve as well, since this wouldn’t have happened had it not been for me.”

Giles shook his head. “Buffy’s behavior is her responsibility, Spike, not yours. She is understandably upset, but that does not excuse her actions. She is a young woman, nearly an adult, and as such, needs to learn to control her impulses and try to handle things calmly and rationally instead of allowing her anger to overtake her. We had this same discussion after the incident with Mr. O’Connor in the corridor.”

Spike closed his eyes and dropped his head. “That was my fault as well.”

Giles tightened his grip slightly on Spike’s arm. “It most certainly was not. Mr. O’Connor was at fault for attacking you and Buffy was at fault for how she reacted to it, but nothing in that scenario was your doing. One has no control over the actions of others; one can only control their own reactions, and Buffy needs to learn a bit of control, that’s all. She’s quite hotheaded.”

Spike smiled slightly and nodded. “That she is, sir.”

Giles let go of his arm and turned toward the stairs. “Dawn is waiting for you and I must speak with Buffy before I drive you to your appointment with Miss Maclay. Please be prepared to leave in…” he looked at his watch, “forty-five minutes.”

“Yes, sir.” Spike watched Giles walk up the stairs then turned and plodded toward the living room. “Balls. Hope Miss Maclay doesn’t mind me not talkin’ much today ‘cause I **will not** break down in front of Mr. Giles.”


	41. Cathartic

Bruises  
Chapter 41 – Cathartic

Buffy stomped her foot and yelled, “Dad, that’s not fair! He needs me!”

“You’ll be right next door and may assist him if he requires it, so there really is no need for the histrionics. My decision is made. You are grounded for one month. You will be allowed to go to school and necessary school functions, but other than that, you are not to leave this room except to use the facilities and assist your mother with dinner preparation and cleanup every evening.”

Buffy clenched her jaw and took a deep breath, forcing her voice to be calm when she asked, “Dad, can I please still take Spike to his appointments with Tara? I really don’t think he’ll be comfortable with you there waiting for him so he won’t open up to her during their sessions and that might set him back. Please, Dad? I don’t want him to lose ground.”

Giles considered that for a minute then nodded. “Yes, you may continue to accompany Spike to his therapist and other related activities.”

“Thank you. And can Spike come in here to visit me?”

“Yes, but I feel the need to limit his presence to one hour per day.”

“An hour? That’s not enough time!”

“It will have to be. You are being punished, Buffy, and simply moving Spike from his room into yours would defeat that purpose. And yes, I realize that limiting your time together is punishing Spike as well, but you must learn that there are consequences to your actions… that what you do affects those around you. Now, it is almost time for his appointment. Please get yourself together.” He stepped to the door and pulled it open then turned back to face Buffy. “If you abide by these conditions, we will revisit the issue in two weeks.”

Buffy waited until the door was closed then she snatched her pillow off the bed and screamed into it before chucking it at the door. She angrily ran her fingers through her hair then stepped across the room, being careful not to stomp, and jerked the door open, kicking her pillow out of the way. She went across the hall to the bathroom and quickly splashed some cold water on her face then ran a brush through her tangled hair. She smacked the brush on the counter and stared at her reflection in the mirror. “Two weeks. I can manage to keep my temper in check for two weeks. I can.” Her hands curled into fists and she groaned. “I hope.”

Spike was standing nervously by the front door fidgeting with a button on his duster when she came down the stairs. He nodded to Giles and said quietly, “Thank you for this, sir… uh… not that I wouldn’t enjoy your company… it’s just… um…”

“I understand, Spike, and you’re welcome.” He bent down and picked up a sparkly pink rolling suitcase with a unicorn on it then called out toward the kitchen. “Dawn? It’s time to go. Your mother will be here momentarily to collect you.”

Dawn pushed through the door carrying a stuffed cloth shopping bag and walked quickly toward the group by the front door, bee-lining straight for Spike. She set down her shopping bag then wrapped him in a tight hug. “Bye, Spike.”

Spike squeezed her then smiled down at her when she let him go. “Where you off to, Niblet?” He nodded toward the suitcase. “Unless that case belongs to your Da…”

Rupert raised an eyebrow and Dawn giggled as she moved over to Buffy, “No, silly, that’s mine. Daddy doesn’t like unicorns; all his suitcases are boring brown. And I’m going to Grandma’s.”

Buffy squeezed Dawn in a hug with a chuckle. “Hey, that’s not fair! I want to go to Grandma’s!”

Dawn smiled up at her. “You can’t because your school isn’t out like mine is. I don’t have to go back until Monday.”

Buffy looked over at Giles. “What is she talking about?”

“The elementary schools are having a teacher in-service for the next two days, and your grandmother offered to keep Dawn so she wouldn’t be underfoot at the Gallery while your mother readies for the fundraiser.” 

Buffy smiled at Dawn. “Well, it’s still not fair.”

Dawn stuck her tongue out playfully as she wrapped Giles in a quick hug then picked up her shopping bag. Giles leaned down and perused the contents then chuckled quietly. “You do realize that your grandmother has a fully stocked pantry, don’t you, Dawn?”

Dawn nodded as she pulled open the front door. “Yeah, but she only has old people food like those weird crackers, not good food like Pop Tarts and Doritos, so I have to bring my own.” She turned and hugged Spike one more time then looked up at him. “You’re still taking me trick or treating, right?” 

He nodded with a warm smile. “Wouldn’t miss it, Niblet. Can’t wait to see you all dressed up.”

Buffy raised her hand. “Hey, remember me? I’ll be there, too, you know.”

Dawn rolled her eyes then took her suitcase from Rupert. “I can walk out there all by myself, Dad, I’m not a baby.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder then walked out the front door toward Joyce’s Jeep that had just pulled into the driveway.

Buffy laughed, “Well, I’m feeling the love,” then she winked at Spike. “Looks like I’ve been replaced as the coolest teenager she knows.” Buffy pulled on a light jacket and grabbed her keys then stepped to the door. “We’ll be back for dinner, Dad. Thanks for letting me do this.”

“You’re welcome, Buffy. See you soon.”

Buffy snagged Spike’s hand and pulled him out of the house, only letting go when they’d reached the car. They both waved at Dawn and Joyce as they pulled away from the house then climbed into Buffy's car. Once they were buckled in and driving slowly out of the neighborhood, Spike looked over at her and said quietly, “Sorry ‘bout your sis, luv. Don’t know how I managed it, but I honestly didn’t intend to replace you in her affections.”

Buffy looked over at him. “It’s not your fault, Spike. And I’m not really upset or anything. Actually, I think it’s cute how much she likes you. Besides, we’re sisters, so we’re bonded for life, and no guy… not even you… will ever come between us.”

Spike smiled. “Good to know, pet, um… so what’s the verdict? Twenty years hard labor?”

Buffy glanced at him then reached for his hand. “No. I’m grounded to my room for a month and I have to help Mom with dinner every night, so not too bad. The hardest part is going to be not sleeping next to you.”

Spike nodded even though he was secretly relieved that Buffy wouldn’t be sharing his bed for a while. He was afraid that he still wasn’t completely over his nightmares, and until he was, she was safer in her own room. “Thought not goin’ to the mall was gonna be the hardest part?”

She shook her head. “I thought it would be. I figured I’d be grounded, but just to the house, not locked down in my room. Dad even admitted that keeping us apart wasn’t really fair to you, but he’s still doing it.”

“So I’ll only get to see you at dinner and when you accompany me to my appointments? Am I allowed to speak to you at dinner?”

Buffy squeezed his hand. “Yes, we can talk at dinner, and he did say that you can visit me in my room for an hour a day. Also, I can come help you if you need me to at night.”

“One hour?”

“Yeah.” She squeezed his hand again. “We’ll make it work, Spike. And if I’m good for the next two weeks, Dad will consider letting me off punishment.”

Spike flinched again – he wondered if he’d ever be able to hear that word without flinching – and nodded. “All right, kitten. With Finn there, I don’t imagine I’ll be strayin’ very far from my room, so maybe we could sit in our doorways and talk or something, or would that be bendin’ the rules too much?”

“I think that would be okay. As long as I’m technically in my room, I don’t think Dad will get too upset about it. I’ll ask when we get home to make sure, though.” She sighed loudly. “This is gonna be a long two weeks, I can already tell.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Tara shut the door behind Spike and took a seat in her recliner. “How are you today, Spike? You look good.”

Spike smiled as he leaned back against the couch. “Doin’ all right, I guess. Feel better.”

“Good. Any nightmares last night?”

Spike grimaced. “Yeah, just one, but it was different than the rest.”

“Different how?”

“Instead of my father beatin’ the tar out of me, I beat the tar out of him and didn’t stop until he was unconscious.”

“Oh.”

Spike’s mouth dropped open. “Oh? That’s all you have to say?”

Tara smiled. “How about, oh... that’s good.”

“Good? How can it be good? Doesn’t doin’ the same things he did make me just like him? Doesn’t knowin’ I beat someone insensible make you even a little bit wary of bein’ alone with me?”

Tara leaned sideways just a bit and pulled her legs up into the chair to curl them underneath her. “You’re not like him, Spike. Not at all. His acts against you were deliberate and planned… methodical… and they happened in real life. Your act against him was in a dream, and you didn’t deliberately attack him, you acted in self defense. And no, I’m not worried about being alone with you because I know you’d never hurt anyone unless you were defending yourself or someone you cared about. Would you?”

Spike shrugged then shook his head. “No, I won’t go lookin’ for a scrap, but I might get to put that defense notion of yours to the test… very soon.”

“I heard. How do you feel about Riley moving into Buffy’s house?”

Spike glanced at her then focused his gaze on his knees again. “Nervous, apprehensive… I’m almost one hundred percent certain he’s gonna try somethin’ and I’m on edge… just waitin’ for him to make a move… and he hasn’t even set foot in the house yet, so this could be the longest two weeks or so of my life so far. Even considerin’ all that’s been done to me in the past year, at least then I knew what to expect. Yeah, Da managed to surprise me a few times, but most of the time he was fairly predictable. Finn… isn’t. And I don’t know how I’ll fare if he does come after me and I hate the fact that I’m still scared of the bastard… that I want nothin’ more right now than to go hide in my room like some frightened little rabbit, afraid to poke my nose out of my burrow ‘cause I might get eaten.”

“But on the other hand…”

Spike fixed his gaze on her, again amazed at how she was able to read him so easily. “On the other hand… I know exactly how he feels, what he’s goin’ through. It’s like we’re members of some exclusive club, one that Buffy and Angel and you don’t understand the intricacies of…”

“I understand them, because I’m a member of the same club.”

Spike’s jaw dropped. “What? You?” Tara nodded and Spike swallowed hard. “Who was it? How bad…” Spike stuttered to a halt and dropped his gaze with a murmured, “I’m sorry, Miss Maclay. You don’t have to elaborate and it was rude of me to ask.”

“It’s all right, Spike. I wouldn’t have brought it up if I was uncomfortable talking about it. It was my father and my older brother. My father beat me, usually when he’d had too much to drink, which was most of the time, and Donny started molesting me when I was twelve. Shortly after my fifteenth birthday I was finally able to convince someone that I was being abused.”

“How?”

“I walked into the police station in full labor and gave birth to my brother’s child on the floor in front of the reception desk.”

Spike’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped again, hanging open for several long minutes as he processed that statement. He finally shook himself, looking down as he slid his hands down his thighs, straightening imaginary wrinkles in his jeans, then he cleared his throat and spoke quietly. “Oh. Well… that would be rather convincing, I’m sure.” He looked up from the interesting view of his hands resting on his knees to the completely calm and unruffled face of his psychiatrist. “What happened to the child?”

“She was stillborn. I was only seven months along when I went into labor and I hadn’t felt her move for almost a week, since the last time my father had beaten me. That’s why I went to the police station instead of the hospital. I’d been bleeding all that time so I didn’t expect to live through the birth, and I already knew she was dead, and I just wanted someone to believe me, to finally know what had been done to me. I survived, obviously, but because of the things my father and Donny did to me and the repairs the doctors had to make, I’ll never bear any more children.”

“I’m sorry for that, Miss Maclay. You’d have made a wonderful mum.”

Tara smiled warmly. “I am a mother. I adopted a little boy six years ago.” She stood up and walked over to her desk, coming back with a picture frame that she handed to Spike. “That’s Tommy. He’s almost eight.”

Spike looked down at the smiling little boy in the picture. He was wearing a baseball uniform and holding a bat propped on his shoulder. “He’s a fine looking boy, Miss Maclay.”

Tara laughed as she accepted the picture back from Spike. “He’s a holy terror, actually, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”

Spike waited until she’d sat back down in her recliner then he asked quietly, “What happened to them?”

Tara tucked her legs underneath her again before she answered, “They were killed in a prison riot. I’d just gotten this job; it was my second day, as a matter of fact. I was in session with a girl who could’ve been me. She’d just told me about giving birth to her step-father’s child when I got the call from the prison. We ended up crying on each other’s shoulders for nearly two hours.”

“Are you allowed to be tellin’ me all this ‘bout another patient? Isn’t there some kind of confidentiality or something?”

Tara took in his worried and slightly mortified expression then said quietly, “I have not nor will I disclose anything we’ve talked about to anyone, Spike. Anything you tell me in this room stays in this room unless you give me permission to share it, and even then, I won’t divulge details, I’ll just speak in generalities.” She nodded toward the filing cabinet in the corner. “And I have her written authorization to use her experiences in my sessions if I feel it will help. She’s Tommy’s mother, by the way.”

Spike’s mouth dropped open again. “You’re allowed to do that? Adopt a patient’s child?”

“She’s not my patient anymore. I asked her to change to a different psychiatrist after that first session because her situation was so similar to mine that I didn’t feel I’d be helping her. I was too inexperienced… I had trouble separating my feelings about my abuse from the empathy I felt for her and I was afraid that our sessions would be backwards, that my patient would end up trying to help me work through my issues instead of the other way around. We kept in touch, though, as friends and confidants, and when she found that she wasn’t able to care for Tommy the way he deserved, she asked me to adopt him.”

“Does Tommy… um…”

Tara nodded. “Yes, he knows who she is and he calls her Mommy when she visits. He says he’s lucky to have two mommies who love him when most kids only have one. She started college this fall, studying to be a child psychiatrist.”

“Like you.”

“Yes. It was my experiences with the foster care and legal systems that inspired me to become what I am. I wanted to help children who have no one to speak for them, no one who understands what they’re going through. I give them a voice and I help secure justice for them when I can. And I listen when they talk and give them a shoulder to cry on when they need one. I love doing the work I do and, just like Tommy, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Tara leaned over and opened the door of the small mini fridge set next to her chair. She plucked out two bottles of juice and handed one to Spike. “Okay, Spike, I’d like you to tell me about last night’s nightmare, as many details as you can remember, and what happened afterwards. What you did, what you felt, how you feel now. If you need to get up and move around, please do. And if you feel the need to vent some anger…” She nodded toward the wall about eight feet behind her chair that had a thick training mat bolted to it. “…that’s what the anger wall is for.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Spike stepped out of Tara’s office and right into Buffy’s arms. She squeezed him in a tight hug then pulled back just a bit, taking in the tear tracks on his face. “Rough session?”

He nodded as she produced her dampened paper towel and proceeded to wipe his tears away. “Yeah. Just want to go home, pet.”

“Okay.” She tossed the paper towel into the trash can then slipped her arm around Spike’s waist and started leading him toward the door. 

He called over his shoulder, “Same time tomorrow, Miss Maclay?”

“Yes. See you then, Spike. You did a good job today.”

He nodded as he reached out to grasp the knob and Buffy gasped at his red and swollen knuckles. She snagged his hand and held it up. “God, Spike! What happened to your hand?”

He shrugged. “Spent ‘bout twenty minutes workin’ out some anger on the punch wall.” He held up the other hand, showing her the reddening and swelling. “Might need to get myself a bag or somethin’… it’s very cathartic.”


	42. Bear

Bruises  
Chapter 42 – Bear

The dog snuffling at his boots brought Spike up short about three steps into the house. It was a huge dog with fluffy white fur, and it was now snuffling its way up his leg, apparently headed for his crotch. Spike closed his duster tightly around himself and took a step back. “Uh… Buffy? When’d you get a dog?”

Buffy stepped into the house behind him and peeked around his shoulder. “I didn’t know we had.” She stepped around Spike and knelt on the floor in front of the dog that was now sitting calmly and looking up at Spike with sad eyes. She reached out and ruffled the fur on his head as she said in that special voice people use when they’re talking to strange dogs, “Aren’t you a pretty dog? Yes, you are. Where’d you come from?”

A voice from the living room said, “He’s mine,” then Riley stepped into the entry way and slapped his thigh. “Bear! Heel!”

Bear stood and slowly limped over to Riley then sat down stiffly next to his right leg. Riley set his hand lightly on the dog’s head and looked over at Spike and Buffy. “Mr. Giles said I could bring him because there isn’t anybody at my house to take care of him now.”

Buffy smiled at the panting animal. “I didn’t know you had a dog. What kind is he?”

“He’s a Great Pyrenees; they’re a sheep herding breed.”

“Is he hurt? He was limping.”

Riley scowled. “Yeah, he got hurt when he was a pup and didn’t heal up quite right. He’s healthy now, though. He’s a good dog.”

Spike sidled around Buffy, keeping his eyes glued to Bear as he headed for the stairs. “I’m going up, kitten. Need to have a lie down for a bit, if that’s all right.”

Buffy followed him over to the stairs then stepped around him and mounted the first stair, bringing her eyes level with his. She slid her arms inside the duster and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m gonna go help Mom.” Her eyes flicked to Riley then she pulled back and cupped Spike’s face in her hands, brushing her thumbs lightly over his cheekbones. “I can bring you something if you don’t feel like coming down here to eat. You’re probably pretty wiped, huh?” He nodded, shooting her a grateful look, and she leaned close for a gentle kiss then whispered in his ear, “Wait for me in my room, okay? I’ll be up after dinner. I love you.”

He hugged her tightly, whispering back, “I’ll be waiting. Love you, too, kitten, and thanks.” Buffy stepped off the stair and snagged Spike’s hand as he started up, giving it a light squeeze. He looked back over his shoulder and gave her a tired smile then continued on.

Buffy waited until he was out of sight then turned back to face Riley. “You want to help with dinner?”

Riley scowled. “Why do I have to help and he doesn’t? What, does he get a free pass because you’re fucking him?”

Buffy stepped closer to Riley wearing a scowl of her own and spoke, keeping her voice low, “Nobody’s allowed to talk like that in this house, Riley. And I didn’t say you **had** to help, I was just asking if you **wanted** to. Spike doesn’t want to, so he’s not. It’s got nothing to do with our relationship. And FYI? What goes on between me and Spike is none of your business.” She stepped toward the dining room then turned and faced Riley again. “You can come into the kitchen if you want and talk to me and Mom, or you can watch TV or something, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go upstairs right now. Spike isn’t feeling well and he needs to get some rest, okay?”

Riley scowled at the top of the stairs then mumbled, “I get it, Buffy, he’s the shiny new toy and I’m just the old broken one. Believe me; I don’t want to be here as much as you don’t want me here…”

Buffy held up her hand and stepped up in front of Riley again. “No, I **don’t** want you here for the exact reason that you **are**. Because you being here means you’ve been hurt in ways I don’t even want to think about, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. And if you weren’t feeling well and wanted to take a nap, I’d be asking Spike to stay down here so you could rest. Yeah, he’s my boyfriend, but I’d show you the same consideration I’m showing him. We’re here to help you, Riley, and we want to help you, but you have to let us.” She took one step closer, locking her gaze with Riley’s. “That being said, I don’t know what it is about Spike that trips your trigger, but you need to leave him alone, or you and me? We’ll have a problem.” She spun and started for the dining room, calling over her shoulder, “So, are you coming in to talk with us or what?”

Riley watched her go, waiting for a few seconds before starting after her. He looked up the staircase with a murderous scowl as he passed it and muttered under his breath, “Fucking baby. Needs his girlfriend to protect him. What a pussy.” He snapped his fingers and Bear stood and started following him.

Joyce stopped stirring the sauce in the pot on the stove as they stepped into the kitchen. “Riley, I don’t mind you having your dog here, but I’d prefer it if he wasn’t allowed in the kitchen. Could you take him into the living room, please? If you want to make him somewhere comfortable to lay down, there are a couple of blankets on the bottom shelf in the hall closet that we use for picnics. Bear can use those while he’s here.”

“Okay, ma’am, and thanks.” 

Joyce gave him a warm smile. “What did I say about calling me that?”

Riley gave her a shy smile, “You’re not that old. Sorry, Joyce,” then he pushed the kitchen door open and snapped his fingers, leading Bear back into the living room.

Buffy waited until the door had swung shut behind him then she moved to stand next to her mother. “What is going on with him? I don’t remember him being this moody… he’s really giving off a Jekyll and Hyde vibe.”

“Jekyll and Hyde?”

“Yeah. He’s all sugar sweet to you, but not two minutes ago he was all grouchy-pants at me.”

“What about?”

“I asked if he wanted to help with dinner and he got all pissy about it because Spike isn’t helping. He said I was letting Spike off the hook because we’re together… only he said it in a really not meant for Dawn’s ears kind of way. Are you sure him being here is a good idea? Especially considering that he apparently hates Spike?”

“There weren’t any other options, Buffy. Charles tried to find him a different emergency placement, but everyone else is at capacity right now and couldn’t take him. We’re the only house that had an opening for a teenage boy. He’ll only be here for two weeks or so, surely they can get along for two weeks.”

Buffy frowned. “I don’t know, Mom. Riley’s just really wigging me out. You should have seen the look he gave Spike when we came in. The only word I can think of to describe it is _loathing_. And the way he threatened Spike at the Bronze? I know Riley’s in the same boat as Spike, and I want to give him the benefit of the doubt and everything, but… I’m kind of afraid to leave Spike alone in his room. What if Riley goes after him?”

Joyce laid her hand on Buffy’s arm. “Do you really think he would do that?”

Buffy shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t use to think he’d do something like that, but… you should have seen what he did to Spike last Wednesday. And for no reason! I don’t know what to think anymore, but I’ve just got this feeling…”

“Then we should try to keep Riley or Spike with one of us at all times. Make sure they’re never both out of our sight at the same time.”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “Like right now.” She turned quickly and bolted from the kitchen. A few hurried steps took her through the dining room and she was about to sprint up the stairs when she caught sight of Riley sitting on the couch in the living room wearing a worried expression. She slid to a halt and grabbed the newel post at the bottom of the stairs, breathing just a little too fast. “Spike’s okay.” She scrubbed a hand over her face and muttered under her breath, “This whole thing is just a great big bucket of suck.”

Riley looked up as Buffy stepped into the living room and walked over to the corner where he’d set up Bear’s makeshift bed. Buffy knelt down next to the folded blankets and reached out to scratch Bear behind the ears, earning a warm lick to her other hand. “Oh, aren’t you just the cutest thing.” She smiled over at Riley. “He seems like a really good dog.”

Riley nodded, still wearing a worried expression. “He is, but he’s not used to sleeping by himself, so I’m not sure how he’s gonna do left down here all alone.”

Buffy looked over at Riley and smiled again when Bear nuzzled her hand, wanting more ear scratches. “Mom didn’t mean that Bear had to stay in the living room all the time. We’ve had other kids that brought their dogs and Mom let them have full run of the house, except for the kitchen, Dad’s office, and other people’s bedrooms. So Bear can sleep in your room if that’s where he’ll be most comfortable. You just have to clean up after him when he goes in the back yard and if he makes a mess in the house… and you might want to keep him away from Mom’s shoes. One kid had a Corgi that chewed up her favorite pair of heels and she still tells me all about it whenever we’re shopping for shoes… that’s where the ‘no dogs in the bedrooms’ rule came from.”

Riley nodded as his worried expression melted into one of relief. “Okay. He won’t go in the house and I’ll keep him to an out of the way section of the back yard. And he’s never chewed up any shoes or anything, so you won’t have to worry about that.”

Buffy looked down at Bear and continued to scratch his ears as she asked quietly, “Why didn’t you tell me, Riley?”

Riley frowned. “About Bear?”

“No. About what was happening at home. I could’ve helped you stop it if you’d told me.”

Riley dropped his eyes to his lap and shrugged. “Yeah, because that’s something you want your girlfriend to know.”

Buffy stood and walked over to the couch, sitting down beside Riley. “I’m not your girlfriend now, and I’ll listen if you want to talk.”

Riley looked thoughtful for a minute then screwed his face into a sneer as he looked over at her. “What? Do you get off on listening to this kind of shit? You want to hear all about how my Dad came into my room almost every night to bend me over and fuck me? The only things he ever said I was good at were sucking cock and taking it up the ass. Oh, here’s a good one. You’ll like this. He used to bring his friends over to the house and they’d pay to fuck me. In fact, my ass paid for my Dad’s boat. That what you want to hear? That get your motor running, Buffy?”

Buffy’s head rocked back like Riley had slapped her. “No, Riley! God!”

Riley’s sneer turned mean as he leaned a little closer, lowering his voice and pinning Buffy in place with his gaze. “Or maybe you want to hear what happened after? Well, when he was done fucking me he’d take his belt to me. Sometimes that got him hard and he’d fuck me again or make me suck him off. You getting hot yet, Buffy? Or do you want to hear the poor sad part about how all I could do was take it because he said he’d kill my dog if I fought back or told. Better get the tissues out now because here comes the tear-jerking after-school special part. I couldn’t sleep in my room, not after what happened to me in there, so I slept in the garage with my dog... the dog my Dad almost killed because he tried to protect me. That’s why Bear has a limp, because he jumped between me and my Dad and my Dad kicked him down the stairs. He laid down there for hours, whimpering in pain, but I couldn’t get to him because my Dad took his time, making sure that the first time he fucked me was memorable. Is that what you wanted to hear?” Riley leaned closer and laid his head on Buffy’s shoulder. “You gonna hold me while I cry now, Buffy? Is that what you do for the little bleached pussy upstairs? Hold the baby while he cries?”

Buffy dropped her shoulder to get Riley’s head off it then slid away from him in horror, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. “God, Riley...”

Riley glared at her. “You can’t help me because I don’t need help. I’m a man and I can handle my own shit. I stopped my Dad all on my own months ago. Now he’s fucking terrified of me instead of the other way around, so I don’t need anybody’s help or sympathy. What I need is for everybody to butt the fuck out of my life and leave me alone. I was doing just fine until somebody fucked everything up, and when I find out who that somebody is, I’m gonna fuck them up.”

Buffy pressed her back into the arm of the couch and Riley grinned at her, laughing low in his throat. “You want to know the funny part of all this? Get ready to laugh your head off, Buffy, ‘cause here it comes… My Dad turned me as queer as a three dollar bill. Isn’t that hilarious? I thought once I’d made him stop I’d get to be normal. You know, stop blowing Graham and have sex with girls. I’m the fucking quarterback and I can name at least a dozen girls who would give their left tit to fuck me. But guess what? Because of my Dad, I can’t get it up unless there’s another cock involved. Pretty fucking funny, don’t you think? You know how I got it up when you were sucking my cock? I thought about Graham’s dick up my ass.”

Buffy shook her head as she dropped her hand from her mouth. “You need help from somebody, Riley, but you’re right… I can’t help you.” Then she bolted up off the couch and fled, Riley’s low chuckles following her.


	43. Open Door

Bruises  
Chapter 43 – Open Door

Buffy walked on shaky legs back to the kitchen, making sure to prop the door open so she would hear it if Riley left the living room. She dropped onto a stool at the island and whispered, “He’s completely crazy, Mom.”

Joyce turned from the stove, quickly propping the spoon in the spoon rest on the counter when she saw the horrified look on Buffy’s face. She skirted the island and wrapped Buffy in a tight hug. “Buffy? What happened?”

Buffy pressed her face into Joyce’s shoulder and said quietly, “I told Riley I’d listen if he wanted to talk, and…” She trailed off and wrapped her arms tightly around her mother.

“Did he tell you what happened to him?”

Buffy chuckled bitterly. “Yeah. He did… in the most disgusting and disturbing way he possibly could. Then he told me he didn’t want my help. That he didn’t need it because he’s a man who can ‘handle his own shit’ and he was doing just fine before someone messed up his life. He also said he’s going after the person who messed up his life. He scares me, Mom. I don’t think Dawnie should come home until after he’s gone… I’ll go to Grandma’s and drive her to and from school… and if Grandma had the room, I’d be taking you, me, Dad, and Spike over there and just let Riley have the house all to himself. You’re sure there isn’t anywhere else… like a mental hospital… that Riley could go?”

“Mr. Pryce is working on it, but I’ll speak to him about trying to hurry the process. I need to check in with him first thing tomorrow anyway. He asked me to keep him apprised of Riley’s behavior and attitude, but he didn’t seem to think that Riley was dangerous.”

Buffy chuckled again. “Oh… he’s dangerous, I’m just not sure to who besides Spike. He didn’t threaten me or anything, but I still don’t want to be alone with him. His creepiness-factor is off the charts.”

Joyce pulled back and held Buffy at arm’s length, looking her over, before nodding toward the kitchen door. “Why don’t you go up and check on Spike?”

Buffy frowned. “But what about…” She motioned to the dinner preparations that were pretty much completed. “I’m supposed to be helping you and I’m not sure I want to leave you alone down here with Riley.”

Joyce moved to the cupboard and pulled down three plates. “Go set the table while I dish up food for you and Spike and we’ll call this meal helped with. Then tell your father that dinner is ready and I won’t be alone for more than a few minutes.”

Buffy nodded and took the plates from Joyce then gathered up silverware and headed for the dining room. She peeked into the living room, making sure that Riley was still sitting on the couch, then quickly set the table. She made a quick trip down the hallway and knocked on her father's office door then opened it and poked her head in. "Dinner's ready, Dad."

He nodded and said, "I'll be there in a moment. Thank you."

When she stepped back into the kitchen, Joyce was just sliding two filled plates onto a tray. “Grab some silverware and whatever you two want to drink then take Spike his dinner. I’ll be leaving for the gallery after dinner, and may end up just staying the night there, so I’ll leave the dishes and you can wash them in the morning.”

Buffy pulled Joyce into a quick hug. “Thanks, Mom. Yell… loudly… if you need anything, okay?”

“I will, honey. See you tomorrow.”

XXXX

Buffy stopped outside her bedroom door. It was cracked open about half an inch. She leaned over slightly and looked through Spike’s wide open bedroom door, smiling at the emptiness of the room, then straightened up and nudged her door open with the toe of her shoe. She stepped quietly into the room and set the tray down carefully on her desk then turned to the bed. Spike was asleep, curled on his left side. He’d showered and changed into pajama pants and a clean t-shirt and his hair was curly and mussed. His right hand was curled against his chest, securely cradling her stuffed pig, Mr. Gordo.

She smiled at the nearly overwhelming cuteness and reached for the phone in her pocket. She pulled it out and snapped a few pictures then tucked it away as she walked over to the door and softly pushed it shut. She turned and moved toward the bed, making sure to stay out of arm’s reach, then said quietly, “Spike, wake up.” He twitched then stilled and Buffy said again, “Spike, wake up.” He startled and rolled to his back, his hands coming up in a defensive gesture, the right one still clutching the pig. 

His eyes flew open and scanned the room then he visibly relaxed when they landed on Buffy. He smiled and sat up a bit, scooting back to lean against the headboard. “Sorry, kitten, didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Buffy’s eyes cut quickly to the pig still clutched in his right hand then back up to his face as her lips quirked into a smirk. “It’s okay.”

He glanced down to see what she’d looked at and his cheeks turned pink. He reached across the bed and quickly plopped Mr. Gordo down on the far side near the edge then clasped his hands together in his lap. “Uh… well…”

Buffy giggled and moved to sit on the edge of the bed next to his legs. “It was really cute.” She tapped the phone in her pocket. “So cute that I had to take pictures.” His wide eyes flew up to hers, his cheeks turning a darker shade of pink, and she reached out to wrap her hand over his. “I’m not gonna show them to anybody, so don’t worry, but…” She bit her lip and looked down shyly. “I do reserve the right to show them to our kids so they’ll know who they got their cuteness from.”

She felt him tense under her hand and looked up just in time to see his mouth form the word ‘kids,’ although no sound came out. He cleared his throat and rasped, “Kids? You… me… kids? We’re the kids, Buffy.”

Buffy giggled again at the look on his face. “I don’t mean right now or even five years from now, but yeah… I want to have kids with you, someday.”

His eyes dropped to his lap and he shook his head. “You sure that would be a good idea, pet? You sure you want my defective genes…”

Buffy cut him off with a squeeze to his hands. “You aren’t him, Spike. Yes, he’s sick, but it’s not a sickness that was passed to you, and it’s not a sickness that you’ll pass to your kids.” For some reason, Riley’s sneering face suddenly flashed across her mind and she shuddered.

Spike noticed the movement and turned his hand to grasp hers. “I hope you’re right, kitten, but…”

She squeezed his hand. “I am right.” She smiled. “I’m always right, which is something you should have learned by now.” 

Spike laughed and nodded. “’Course you are, luv. ‘Course you are.” His expression turned serious again. “So… why’d you shudder like that then, if the prospect of me passin’ on the genes of a nutter doesn’t frighten you?”

“That wasn’t about you. I… um… tried to talk to Riley, and he...”

Spike’s grip tightened on her hand. “What did he do, Buffy?”

Buffy shrugged then shuddered again. “He’s… not right. He told me what happened to him, but… he did it in a way that was meant to horrify me. He kept asking if hearing it was getting me hot, if I got off on hearing about abuse. It was just sick the way he… I feel nauseous just thinking about the stuff he said, and…” She trailed off and shuddered again.

Spike slipped his hands out from under hers with a murmured, “I’m sorry.”

She looked at her now empty hand then up at Spike. “For what?”

“I shouldn’t have told you about it all. It wasn’t fair to you to have to hear about all the things my Da did to me.”

Buffy shook her head and reached for his hand, taking it in a tight grip. “No, Spike, no. The way you told me about your abuse and the way Riley told me about his are so different… so far apart that they’re not even on the same planet. You weren’t trying to hurt me with it like he was. He wanted to… shock me or gross me out or something, I don’t know, but you didn’t do that. Not that what happened to you isn’t shocking or gross, but… it’s the **way** you told me, not **what** you told me. Am I making any sense?”

“Yeah, but I’m still sorry I put you through that.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry you had to **go** through that, so how about we just call it even, okay? You lived it, I listened to it, we both survived. You’re getting better and he’s in jail and we have our whole lives ahead of us.” Spike opened his mouth and Buffy plowed on, “I’m not saying we should forget everything that’s happened or pretend like it didn’t, I’m just saying we should… well, ‘build a bridge and get over it’ seems a little harsh, but…”

Spike squeezed the hand that still tightly held his. “We should try to put it behind us and forge ahead?”

Buffy smiled. “Yeah. That sounds better. And with the two of us forging together, it will hopefully make it easier than if you were trying to do it by yourself.”

Spike whispered, “Like Riley is.”

Buffy flinched slightly then squared her shoulders. “There’s nothing I can do for him, Spike, not that anything I did would make any difference anyway. He **needs** help… lots and lots of it… but he doesn’t **want** help, and it’s gonna take someone with a lot more experience than me or my parents and a hell of a lot longer than two weeks to break down the walls he’s built around himself. I think all we can do for him is just let him stay here and treat him like a guest from out of town until he leaves.” Buffy scooted closer then turned around and leaned against the headboard beside Spike. “Which will hopefully be soon. Did you see the look he gave you when we came in?”

Spike shook his head. “Not really. I was a bit focused on the huge dog that had its fangs just a little closer to my bits and pieces than was comfortable.”

Buffy glanced at him. “Are you afraid of dogs?”

Spike shrugged. “Never really been around 'em, but when they weigh as much as I do, well… Guess you could say I’m wary.”

Buffy leaned closer, resting her head on Spike’s shoulder. “Bear’s nice. I petted him a little before Riley and I had our ‘talk,’ and he kept nuzzling me for more scratches. Riley told me how he got hurt, too.”

“And how’s that?”

“His dad. Apparently Bear tried to protect Riley and his dad kicked the dog down the stairs. Threatened to kill him if Riley told.”

Spike sighed. “And there’s another thing we have in common, it would seem. We both tried to protect a loved one by keeping our mouths shut and taking what was being dished out.”

“Yeah, but it makes me wonder…”

When she didn’t continue, Spike reached for her hand and twined her fingers with his. “Wonder what, pet?”

She shrugged. “Why you two are so different. I mean, you were both horribly abused, and you both kept it a secret because your abuser threatened to hurt someone if you told, so why did Riley turn into a complete asshole who beats people up for fun and you didn’t?”

“Different personalities, I suppose. Length of abuse and type of abuse are also factors. We have a few things in common, true, but we have a lot more that aren’t. He went through a hell I didn’t have to endure, and he’s been living in that hell for nearly half his life. I’m not all that surprised that he is the way he is, but at least he’s got one thing going for him.”

“What?”

“He’s still able to love. He sacrificed himself because he loves his dog, so at least his father didn’t take that away from him, and hopefully that means he’ll eventually heal.”

Buffy sighed loudly. “God, it’s all such a huge mess.”

Spike said quietly, “Life usually is, kitten.”

“Yeah.” She sat up and nodded toward the desk. “You hungry?”

Spike smiled. “I could eat.”

Buffy stood up and walked over to the desk then picked up the tray and turned to the bed. “Sit up and I’ll set this between us.”

Spike complied, sitting up fully and folding his legs as Buffy set the tray down in front of them then crawled up on the bed and mirrored his position. She handed him a fork and his can of Pepsi then stabbed her own fork into her spaghetti noodles, twirling them around the tines. Spike watched her as she tucked the forkful of noodles into her mouth, a few loose ends spilling out over her bottom lip. She sucked them in sharply then licked the sauce off her lip and started chewing. 

Spike shook himself slightly and looked down at his own plate, muttering quietly to himself, "Never knew watching someone eat spaghetti was so...” He shook himself again then dug into his own spaghetti, trying to ignore the slurping noises coming from Buffy. 

They ate quickly and without conversation, both suddenly realizing that nearly half of their allotted hour was up. Once the plates were cleared and the drinks drunk, Buffy picked up the tray and set it back on her desk before turning to face Spike. She skimmed out of her shirt and shimmied out of her pants, leaving them in a pile on the floor.

Spike’s breathing quickened as Buffy walked toward him, clad only in her panties and bra. She climbed up onto the bed and he straightened his legs as she straddled him. “I had some plans for tonight, but since we only have about twenty minutes left, well… we don’t have time for them.”

Spike’s voice cracked just a bit when he said, “Plans?”

Buffy leaned forward and nuzzled against his ear, brushing her lips lightly across it as she whispered, “Yeah, plans, but now you’ll just have to wait.”

Her lips trailed down his neck and he tilted his head back with a low groan as he grasped her hips and pulled her tight against the bulge in his pants. She rocked against him then reached down and started lifting his t-shirt. When it had joined her clothes on the floor, she leaned down, scooting down his legs as she trailed kisses down his chest. He gasped when her mouth closed on his nipple then groaned again and lifted his hips when she started sliding his pants down.

She looked up at him, her hand hovering over his hard length and asked, “Can I?” He nodded emphatically and she took him in her hand, stroking slowly as she looked over at the clock. “We’ve got fifteen minutes. Let’s see what I can do with that.” She dipped her head and licked from base to tip then took him in, sliding her tongue around the head. Spike’s breathing was ragged and loud as he watched her, trying not to flex his hips so he wouldn’t make her gag. He tried to hold still while her head bobbed, one hand stroking the base of his shaft while the other gently fondled and stroked his sack. He slid his fingers into her hair, lifting it off her face, and she looked up, her eyes meeting his. She sucked hard at the same time and that was all it took. Spike came, his body tensing as he released with a loud moan. 

Buffy’s head bobbed a few more times, then she gave him a few gentle licks and carefully pulled his pants back up. She scooted back up his legs and cupped his face in her hands, placing light kisses on his forehead, cheeks, and chin. He wrapped his arms around her then slid to the edge of the bed and stood up, holding her tightly against him. She squeaked in surprise when he turned and laid her down, sliding her panties off as he dropped to his knees beside the bed. He looked over at the clock. “We’ve still got ten minutes. Not sure if that means you’re really good or I’m really pathetic, but either way… now it’s your turn.”

Buffy gasped when his warm tongue licked a wide stripe up her sex then settled on her nub, flicking it back and forth. His fingers joined in, sliding into her, his fingertips unerringly finding her hot button. She lifted her legs, holding them wide with her hands on her knees as Spike licked and nipped and sucked, all the while thrusting with his fingers. It didn’t take him long to have her panting and moaning as she threw her head back, one hand dropping to his head, her fingers tangling in his hair. 

Neither one noticed that the bedroom door was open a few inches.


	44. Only Chance

Bruises  
Chapter 44 – Only Chance

Riley stood in the hallway outside Buffy’s room, watching as she sucked Spike’s cock. His own cock was hard, pressing painfully against the zipper of his jeans, but he ignored it. He’d take care of that when he got to his room, or he’d sneak out and meet Graham for a little suck and fuck. He smirked as he watched Buffy’s head bob up and down. _‘Hell, maybe I **should** have told her what my dad was doing back when we were dating. Then I could’ve moved in here and gotten after-dinner blow jobs. Slut.’ _

When Spike came, Riley pulled the door almost all the way shut. He listened, agreeing that Spike was pathetic, then pushed the door open a little when he heard Buffy start panting and moaning. Spike’s face was buried between her legs and the slurping and sucking noises were making Riley’s cock even harder. He pulled out his cell phone and texted Graham to meet him at the park down the street and not to forget the condoms and lube. He really needed to have his dick sucked, and he also needed Graham’s huge cock as far up his ass as it would go, but which one first? He smiled and pulled out his cell phone again. Why not both at the same time? He texted Graham again, telling him to pick Andrew up on the way. 

Riley had been fucking Andrew for a couple of months now. It hadn’t been difficult to get the timid, somewhat goofy boy to bend over for him once Riley had explained that all his teasing had been because he really liked Andrew and didn’t know how else to show it. That was a complete load of shit; Andrew was nothing more to Riley than a pair of holes to get off in, but Andrew was starved for attention and tended to cling to anyone who was even the tiniest bit nice to him. Now Andrew idolized the quarterback and would do anything Riley asked him to, including being passed around to half the football team one drunken night about a month ago. Of course, Andrew had been given more than just alcohol, and the drugs combined with his hero-worship of Riley had made him willing to take anybody’s cock. Plus, having the festivities on video gave Riley a ton of leverage against several people, should he ever need it.

Riley watched as Buffy came then pulled the door shut and turned for the stairs, hurrying to get up to his room so he could climb out the window. He’d told Buffy’s parents he was going to bed, so he’d have to remember to stuff his clothes under the blankets just in case they checked on him before they turned in. He hadn’t had to sneak out for months, not since he’d punched his Dad clean across the room. He’d become ruler of that roost and had come and gone as he’d pleased, but now that he had the State’s nose wiggling around in his business; he’d have to be careful. The last thing he needed was to get called in as a runaway. Being forced to live in a group home for the next six months was bad enough. He snarled to himself, _‘If I ever find out who fucked everything up, I’ll spend six months beating the shit out of them.’_

Riley tucked the last pair of his jeans under the blanket then snapped his fingers. Bear jumped up on the bed and Riley positioned him so that he’d block the view from the door of where Riley’s head should be. “Bear, stay.” The dog panted happily and licked Riley’s hand. Riley patted his head and murmured, “Good dog,” as he fished a dog treat out of his pocket. He absentmindedly gave it to the dog as he checked his phone. Graham was on his way with Andrew and Riley had thirty minutes to get to the park. He shoved the phone back into his pocket and walked over to the window, unlatching it and pushing it open. He leaned out, looking over the roof of the house as he tried to find the easiest route down. 

Riley landed in a crouch in the grass next to the back porch. He stood slowly, flexing the knee he’d jarred when he’d landed, then turned and looked up at the window to his room. It had taken him nearly ten minutes to get down and he’d have a hell of a time trying to get back up there when he was done at the park, but maybe by then everyone would be asleep and he could just sneak in the back door. He rubbed a hand over his still hard cock. He’d figure that out later. Right now he needed to get off. 

He scanned the back yard, looking for the gate that led into the alley, then started in that direction. He’d just passed the steps leading up to the back porch when the back door opened and Spike stepped out. Riley froze then turned a glare on the blond as Spike stood on the porch, one hand on the doorknob of the still open door.

Spike’s first thought was to go back inside and lock the door behind him. What was Riley doing skulking around out here? He’d heard Riley moving around in his room and thought he’d have a few minutes of freedom to sit on the porch and enjoy the night air before he holed up in his room to await Riley’s departure. Spike glanced back into the house then turned to look at Riley. Maybe this was an opportunity. They **were** in the same club, after all, so maybe if Spike tried a bit of friendly conversation, Riley would feel a little more welcome and start to see Spike as something other than a punching bag. Spike took a deep breath then closed the door and moved a few steps down the porch, leaning a shoulder against the wall. He was pretty much terrified of being alone with Riley, but he tried his damndest not to show it as he slid his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants and nodded at the other man. “You couldn’t sleep, either, huh?”

Riley blinked. Polite conversation had been the last thing he’d expected. And wasn’t the little pussy supposed to be scared of him? He didn’t have Buffy here to back him up, so why wasn’t he running back into the house to hide behind her? Why was he just standing there, leaning against the wall like he was waiting for a fucking bus? Riley’s eyes narrowed. It must be because Spike had seen him crying earlier when he’d come out of the Principal’s office. _‘I wasn’t crying because of what my Dad did or because somebody found out. If whoever squealed had just waited six more months, I’d be eighteen and wouldn’t have to go to a fucking group home. But no, I have to move halfway across the fucking state, and because my asshole father is in jail, I’m gonna lose my fucking dog. Pussy-Boy saw me crying about that and now he thinks he can just stand there and fucking smile at me? Well, that shit just ain’t gonna fly.’_ Riley turned and climbed the steps to the porch. He had a few minutes to burn; the park was only a five minute walk from Buffy’s house, so he had more than enough time to teach the little pussy a lesson… or two. 

He stepped right up in front of Spike, the difference in their heights causing Spike to have to look up at his sneering face. Spike would have been a bit taller if he’d been wearing his boots, but he was barefoot. Riley leaned close and said in a low, menacing voice, “What did you say to me, pussy?”

Spike tensed and changed position slightly, pulling his hands out of his pockets and centering his weight on the balls of his feet in case he needed to move quickly. He tried to smile in a non-threatening way and said, “Just makin’ conversation, mate. Wasn’t tryin’ to piss you off.”

Riley stood back, wearing a mean grin. “Your breath smells like pussy. Bet Buffy’s smells like cock.” Spike’s eyes widened and Riley laughed. “Yeah, I saw you, and yeah, you’re pathetic. Buffy’s not that good.”

Spike’s voice was low and angry when he spat, “You son of a bitch. You watched us?”

Riley jabbed two fingers harshly into Spike’s chest, making him stumble back a step. “Yeah. What you gonna do about it… pussy?”

Spike grabbed Riley’s hand and twisted it just the way Angel had shown him and Riley was forced to his knees with a low cry of pain. “I’m not gonna take any more shit from you, Finn. Your days of poundin’ me into the bloody ground are over.” Spike released him and backed up several steps as Riley got back to his feet. “I’ve never done anythin’ to you, and it’s not my fault your father beat and mol…”

Spike didn’t get to finish his sentence. Riley snarled and lunged forward, tackling Spike around his middle and sending them both off the side of the porch and into the grass. Spike landed hard on his back, Riley’s weight crushing him into the turf. The impact knocked the wind out of him and Spike gasped for air as Riley sat up, holding Spike to the ground with a hand fisted in his t-shirt. Riley lifted Spike by his shirt then slammed him back into the ground. “You shut your fucking mouth!”

Spike wrapped his hand around Riley’s wrist and tried the twisting thing again, but the larger man just batted his hands away and lifted him up. He pulled Spike into an almost upright position and snarled in his face, flecks of spittle landing on Spike’s cheeks and chin. “You don’t know anything about it!” He slammed Spike back into the ground.

Spike whipped his left fist up, catching Riley on the cheek and snapping his head to the side. Angel had been right… it was nothing like hitting the training pad. It hurt. A lot. Riley turned his head slowly back and sneered. “You hit like a girl.” Spike punched him again, this time in the mouth. Riley’s lip split as it was mashed against his teeth and he snarled, “You’re gonna pay for that,” as he lifted up on his knees, raising his fist to strike.

Spike braced his feet on the ground and snapped up, arching into a bridge. His thighs hit Riley’s ass and launched him forward over Spike’s head, the hand still tangled in his shirt coming free with a low ripping noise. Spike rolled to his hands and knees then got to his feet and started backing into the open space on the side of the house, heading towards the driveway. 

Riley got slowly to his feet, his expression murderous as he stalked across the lawn after Spike. “I’m gonna fuck you up.” He charged and Spike braced himself for impact, but instead of hitting Spike like he had on the porch, Riley juked to the side then spun around behind Spike, snaking his left arm around Spike’s throat and hoisting the smaller man off his feet. 

Spike struggled, kicking his heels against Riley’s shins as the arm around his throat tightened. He threw a desperate elbow into Riley’s ribs and Riley grunted in pain, dropping Spike back to the ground. Spike started to try the throw Angel had taught him, but his foot slipped on the wet grass and he fell forward, dragging Riley with him. Riley landed on Spike’s back, crushing him into the turf again.

Spike pressed his hands into the ground, trying to lift himself enough to roll Riley to one side, but he crumpled back to the earth when Riley’s fist slammed into his ribs. Spike gasped for breath again as Riley grabbed his right arm and wrenched it up his back, securing the wrist with his left hand. Spike yelled in pain as he felt something in his shoulder give. He wriggled, trying to get out from under Riley, but with only one useable arm and his legs pinned, he had no leverage. Angel hadn’t covered this situation in his training and Spike had no idea what to do. 

Riley lay on top of the wriggling form, considering his options. This lesson wasn’t supposed to be taking this long, but Riley hadn’t counted on the little pussy fighting back. He’d always taken whatever Riley had dished out, but it seemed he’d grown a set in the past week or so. _‘Need to put the pussy back in his place, but beating on him isn’t working anymore, so what can I…’_ Riley suddenly had a great idea.

Spike reached up with his left hand, trying to grab Riley’s hair or poke him in the eye… something… but he froze and his hand thumped to the ground when Riley moaned, “Oh yeah, keep moving like that. Feels good.”

Now that he wasn’t moving, Spike could feel something hard pressing against his ass. Riley ground his hips against Spike as he tightened his arm around Spike’s throat. “I said keep moving.” Spike stayed motionless, going over everything Angel had taught him, trying to figure a way out of this situation. Riley threw a punch into Spike’s ribs and snarled, “I said move!” Spike didn’t, so Riley punched him again. Spike grunted and continued to lie still, struggling to draw air into his lungs through his constricted throat.

Riley lifted his hips just enough to open his jeans and free his erection. He rubbed it against Spike’s ass, his arm around Spike’s throat not loosening even a little. “I said I was gonna fuck you up, but I think I’ll just fuck you instead.” Spike bucked under Riley, trying to throw him off, but he was just too heavy. Riley laughed. “Oh, now you wanna move.” He lifted his hips and started jerking Spike’s pajama pants down with his free hand. 

Spike wheezed, “No!” and reached down with his left hand to grab at his pants, but he was too late. He felt the waistband slip through his fingers and squeezed his eyes shut. He was powerless and he was about ten seconds away from being raped. Tears of frustrated helplessness slid out from under his closed eyelids as he steeled himself to endure one more punishment. It was just pain. He could deal with pain. He felt something hot pressing into the crack of his ass and Riley’s voice was quiet in his ear. “You ready for it, pussy? Here it comes.”

Riley lifted his torso, bracing himself on his knees and the elbow Spike’s neck was caught in, then he spit into his palm several times and reached down to slick his cock. Spike felt Riley’s forehead pressing hard on the back of his head as the blunt head of Riley’s cock started pressing into his hole. The pain was indescribable and Spike screamed, the sound muffled by the grass his face was pressed into. Riley pushed until his cock was fully inside Spike then he stilled. 

Hot tears were streaming down Spike’s face to splash on the grass. He reached up with his left hand again, swiping at Riley’s head and Riley threw another punch into his ribs. Spike grunted and dropped his hand, screaming into the grass again when Riley started to pull back. He stopped about halfway out of Spike and lifted his head then breathed harshly against the back of Spike’s neck. “Fuck, you’re tight. Guess your Dad wasn’t fucking you.” He pushed back in hard, eliciting another muffled scream from Spike. “Don’t worry, I’ll break you in.” He slammed his fist into Spike’s ribs. “You won’t tell anybody about this and you’ll take my cock anytime I want as long as I’m here or Buffy will be the one face down with my cock up her ass.” 

Spike had started to slip into the headspace that had let him endure all his father’s punishments, but hearing Buffy’s name snapped him back to the here and now. Mentioning Buffy was the stupidest thing Riley could have done. He thought he was using her to ensure Spike’s silence and keep him under control, and if this had happened before Buffy came into his life, the threat would have worked, but now, all it did was piss Spike off. There was no way in hell he was going to allow this to happen to Buffy. And he was entirely done letting it happen to him. He would get Riley off him and then he’d get the bastard locked up, shouting from the rooftops if he had to, so Riley would never have the chance to do this to Buffy or anyone else. Spike waited for Riley to pull almost all the way out in preparation for another brutal thrust and then took his only chance.

Riley had his head lifted away from Spike’s, his harsh breaths hot against the back of his neck. Spike lowered his head as far as he could then whipped it up, slamming the back of it squarely into Riley’s nose. The sickening crunch was almost drowned out by Riley’s shouted, “Fuck!” and Spike reached up with his left hand, grabbing a fistful of Riley’s hair. He pulled with all his might and Riley fell to his side, his cock tearing out of Spike and his hand releasing Spike’s wrist. Spike screamed at the fresh bursts of pain then rolled in the other direction. He scrambled to his feet and struggled to get his pants pulled up as he backed away from Riley. He wrestled them into place just as two cops slid to a halt at the edge of the driveway about ten feet away. 

Spike took a startled step backwards at their sudden appearance then pointed an accusing finger at Riley. “H…he attacked me… was t…tryin’ to r..rape me.”


	45. Advice

Bruises  
Chapter 45 – Advice

The older of the two cops lifted the hand that wasn’t on the butt of his gun and pointed at the ground. “On your knees, hands on your head.”

Spike complied, dropping to his knees in the grass. His right arm wouldn’t cooperate – it hurt quite a lot to move it – so he laced his fingers together then raised his hands to the top of his head. He watched, a few stray tears leaking out of his eyes, as the younger cop walked carefully towards Riley, who was lying on his back with his dick hanging out as he snuffled blood up his nose. The cop drew his weapon, keeping it down next to his leg, and said in a loud, clear voice, “Roll over and put your hands behind your back.”

Riley didn’t comply. He shouted through the hands covering his face, “That pussy broke my fucking nose!”

The cop raised his weapon and repeated, “Roll over and put your hands behind your back.” 

Riley shouted again, “Fuck you! Just leave me alone! Why can’t everybody just LEAVE ME ALONE!”

The older cop said quietly to Spike, “Hands behind your back, son.”

Spike took a deep breath then said, “Yes, sir,” and unlaced his fingers. His right arm dropped immediately, emitting another white-hot burst of pain, and he clamped down on a scream as he reached behind himself to grasp the fingers and hold his hands behind his back. He tried not to flinch when the cop stepped behind him and snapped a pair of handcuffs around his wrists, but didn’t manage it very well. 

Once he’d been secured, the cop said, “Sit down and don’t move.”

“Yes, sir.” Spike sat back on his feet then arranged his legs so that he was sitting cross-legged in the grass. His hole felt swollen and was throbbing in time with his heartbeat, and he thought he might be bleeding. His pants were already wet from rolling around in the grass, though, so he couldn’t really tell. His ribs were screaming at him, and he feared that there was something dreadfully wrong with his shoulder, but it was just pain. He’d survived the infliction of it and now all he had to do was endure the aftermath. Nothing he wasn’t used to or hadn’t done hundreds of times already. He took several deep breaths then lifted one knee and rubbed his face against it, getting rid of the tears. The next several hours were likely to be a bitch to get through, but he’d get through them. He was going to make sure Riley paid for what he’d done, and being a hysterical mess wouldn’t get that accomplished.

The cop moved toward Riley, pulling a can of mace out of his utility belt. He stopped about eight feet away and looked Riley over from head to toe, his eyes pausing for a few seconds on Riley’s penis. There was blood streaked on it, and it was, inexplicably, still hard. He glanced back over his shoulder at Spike then turned back to Riley and said in the same quiet voice, “You’re only making things worse for yourself, son. Now roll over and put your hands behind your back.”

Riley flung his hands to the ground at his sides and bellowed, “Fuck you!” at the sky then he rolled to his feet and charged the older cop. He only made it about two steps before he was hit with a full blast of mace. Riley howled and dropped like a stone, scrabbling at his burning eyes. The younger cop holstered his weapon and darted forward, pulling his cuffs out of their pouch on the way. He barreled into Riley, knocking him flat, then pressed a knee hard into the small of his back as he grabbed one of Riley’s wrists and twisted it harshly up his back. The older cop dropped down beside Riley, one knee in the grass and one on Riley’s neck as he wrestled Riley’s other wrist into the cuffs.

The older cop got back to his feet and walked over to the can of mace lying in the grass. He bent and picked it up then holstered it as he pointed at Spike. “You all right, son? Need medical attention?”

Spike shook his head. “I’ll be fine, sir.”

“You said he was trying to rape you. Did he succeed?”

Spike nodded and spoke clearly, “Yes, sir, he did.” 

The cop thumbed the button on his radio and said, “Dispatch, Unit 52. Suspects secured. Send EMS.” The person on the other end of the radio confirmed the transmission and the cop squatted down next to Spike. “What’s your name, son?”

“William James Pratt, but everyone calls me Spike, sir.”

“All right, Spike. I’m Officer Ashworth.” He nodded at the other cop. “That’s Officer Crichton.” He nodded over his shoulder at Riley, who was cursing loudly as he rubbed his face against the grass. “Who’s he?”

“Riley Finn, sir.”

“You both live here?”

“Yes, sir. We’re both emergency foster placements. The house belongs to Mr. Rupert Giles.”

Ashworth nodded. “Yeah, I know. Who’s your caseworker?”

“Mr. Wyndham-Pryce, sir, for both of us, I think.”

“Right.” He thumbed the button on his radio again. “Dispatch, Unit 52. Call Wyndam-Pryce and get him out here.” 

Spike waited for Ashworth to finish talking to Dispatch then he asked quietly, “Uh, sir? Could I ask a question?”

“Sure, son, what is it?”

“Why are you here? I mean, how’d you know to come?”

Ashworth hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the street. “Someone walking their dog saw you two fighting and called it in. We were patrolling a few streets over; that’s why we got here so fast.” He laid a hand gently on Spike’s injured shoulder and Spike drew in his breath in a hiss. “Something wrong with your shoulder, son?”

“I think so, sir, but I’ll be fine.”

Ashworth removed his hand. “The ambulance will be here soon to check you out and I’ll get you out of those cuffs just as soon as I verify your story. I believe you, but considering that the other guy is covered in blood, well… have to make sure.” 

Spike nodded, “I understand, sir.”

“You in much pain? I could cuff your hands in front if that would be more comfortable.”

“Doesn’t matter, sir, I’m used to it. I’ll be fine.”

Ashworth stood and turned toward the front of the house. He started in that direction and said to Crichton, “I’ll raise Giles. You got this?”

Crichton cut his eyes to Spike. “You gonna behave?”

Spike nodded. “Yes, sir.” 

Crichton nodded then waved at Riley. “I’ve got him. Go on.”

Spike listened as Ashworth rang the bell then waited before starting a sustained knocking on the door. Mr. Giles looked a bit disheveled as he rounded the corner of the house, following Ashworth. “Spike? Riley? What has been happening out here?”

Buffy rounded the corner, wrapped in a bathrobe, her damp hair flying behind her. She saw Spike and darted for him, sliding to a halt in the grass next to him before dropping to her knees. “Spike! Are you okay? What happened? Why are you in handcuffs?”

Ashworth said, “He’s being detained until we sort this out.”

Giles asked, “Sort what out, exactly?”

“This one,” Crichton waved at Riley, “was allegedly trying to rape that one.” He motioned to Spike. “Someone saw them fighting and called it in.”

Buffy threw a glare over her shoulder at Giles then she leaned in and wrapped her arms around Spike. Spike yelped and Buffy immediately let him go. “What’s wrong?”

“He twisted my arm up my back and it did something to my shoulder.”

Buffy threw another glare at Giles then turned back to Spike and leaned close, being careful not to touch him. She whispered in his ear, “The cop said Riley was trying to… did he?”

Spike nodded. “Didn’t get to finish ‘cause I broke his nose, but yeah, he did. I’m fine, though, pet. I’ll be fine.”

Tears sprang to Buffy’s eyes and she gripped the cloth of her bathrobe hard in her fists. “I knew something like this was going to happen!”

Ashworth nodded at something Giles said then took a few steps toward Buffy. “You need to step away from the suspect, Miss.”

Buffy turned to him and screeched, “Suspect? Are you kidding me?” She pointed angrily at Riley. “That’s the suspect! Spike’s the victim!”

Spike whispered harshly, “Stop it, Buffy. Screamin’ at them isn’t gonna help me.”

Buffy turned back to Spike in surprise. He nodded down at himself and said, “Put yourself in their shoes. Here I sit, barely a scratch on me, while Finn’s lyin’ there covered in blood. If you didn’t know either of us and came upon this scene, what would you think?” He nodded toward the front of the house. “Just go back inside and let them do their jobs. They’ll sort it and I’ll be fine.”

Giles took several steps forward and reached a hand toward Buffy. “Spike’s right, Buffy. Come along.” Buffy got to her feet and started walking slowly toward Giles. He grasped her arm and started guiding her toward the house, speaking to Ashworth over his shoulder. “If you’ll accompany me, I’ll pull up the footage.”

Ashworth fell into step behind them and Buffy looked up at Giles in astonishment. “Footage? We have footage?”

Giles nodded. “Yes. I had security cameras installed around the house while you were at cheerleading camp over the summer. I thought to nip the Senior Class antics in the bud this year. I do detest removing toilet paper from my trees.”

Buffy’s eyes widened and she shot a glance over her shoulder at Spike. “Uh… how much of the back yard to they cover?”

“They cover the entire property.” Buffy squeaked and Giles looked down at his daughter as they rounded the corner. “Don’t worry, Buffy. I’ve deleted the footage from that evening, and no, I didn’t watch once I’d ascertained what was about to happen, although, in the future, I’d appreciate if you restricted those types of activities to your or Spike’s room.”

Buffy blew out a breath as they stepped into the house. Giles let go of her arm and started walking toward his office. Buffy let the officer step in front of her then she followed him. They gathered around the computer on Giles’ desk and Ashworth shot a questioning glance at Buffy. “Should she be here?”

Giles nodded. “Believe me; arguing with her about it would take more time than either of us wants to spend.” He looked at Buffy. “Approximately what time did Spike go outside?”

“He left my room about half an hour ago, but I don’t know if he went straight outside. I went to the bathroom to take a shower and I was just going to check on him when somebody started banging on the front door.”

Giles said, “We’ll start thirty minutes ago,” and clicked a few buttons on the keyboard. A video window popped up, showing four different views of the back and side of the house. Nothing happened for several seconds and Giles tapped the fast forward button until Riley dropped to the ground next to the porch. He set it back on regular speed and they watched the scenes play out in the small rectangles. 

Ashworth pointed to the rectangle that showed Spike punching Riley. “I’m no lawyer, but that looks like self-defense to me.”

Giles nodded. “I’d have to agree with you.”

They continued to watch and then Buffy pointed angrily at the screen. “And that’s rape.” She looked at Ashworth. “Can you take the cuffs off Spike now, please?”

Ashworth stood up and nodded. “Yeah. He’ll still need to be checked out at the hospital and give a statement down at the station, though.”

Buffy sighed. “He’s been there, done that, got the t-shirt.” She looked at Giles. “Can I take him, Dad? Or go with him?”

Giles nodded. “Of course, Buffy. Get yourself together.” Buffy darted out of the room and pounded up the stairs. Giles slid a DVD into the burner on his computer and dragged the video files to it. “I’ll give a copy to you, Officer. If anyone else needs a copy, have them contact me.” He handed the disc to Ashworth and asked, “What happens to Riley now?”

“I’m gonna arrest him for aggravated battery, rape, resisting arrest, and attempted assault on a police officer. He’ll sit in holding until he’s arraigned.” He shrugged. “After that, it’s up to the judge, I guess.” He held up the DVD. “This is pretty definitive proof of what happened, so I don’t expect his lawyer will be able to do much as far as a deal.” He waved the DVD slightly. “This could put him away for more than a decade if the judge decides to try him as an adult.”

Giles sighed tiredly. “I do wish we would have been able to help him. I didn’t want him to end up in prison.”

Ashworth started for the door. “Again, I’m no lawyer, but considering what the kid’s been through, that might get him sent to a mental hospital instead of prison. Like I said, depends on the judge, but I don’t expect to be seeing him walking the streets for a lot of years.” He stopped in the doorway and turned around. “I’m gonna give you some advice, Mr. Giles. Take it or not, it’s up to you.” He nodded toward the side of the house. “In my opinion, the Finn boy is a lost cause, probably has been for years, considering some of the things I’ve heard about what Charlie did to him, but Spike has a chance. My advice is not to do anything to screw up that chance… like moving another Finn into the house. Give the kid some time to get his shit together.”

Giles nodded solemnly. “I will take that to heart, Officer, and I agree that bringing Riley here was a mistake. Alternate arrangements should have been made.” He glanced toward the side of the house. “It would seem that I have a great deal of apologizing to do. I only hope this incident hasn’t tipped Spike over the edge.”

“That makes two of us.” Ashworth nodded his head and left, closing the door behind him.

Upstairs, Bear clawed one of Riley’s t-shirts out of the pile of laundry stuffed under the blankets and laid his head on it, his eyes trained on the window as he waited for his boy to come back.


	46. Badass

Bruises  
Chapter 46 – Badass

When Buffy stepped into the side yard, Spike was sitting on the ground leaning against the house, cradling his right arm in his left as he watched the EMTs load Riley into an ambulance. She walked over and dropped a backpack near his feet then sat down next to him. She said quietly, “Probably the stupidest question in the history of questions, but… how are you doing?”

Spike shrugged then hissed air through his teeth when his shoulder and ribs protested the movement. “Fine, pet. I’ll be fine.”

Buffy nudged his knee with hers. “You keep using that word. I don’t think it means what you think it means.”

Spike shot her a tiny smile then went back to watching the activity in the driveway. “Mr. Pryce was just here. Said he’d be back to collect me when he was done with Riley. I have to do it all again, the exam, the interview room… bloody hell, startin’ to wonder if they have some sort of punch card for repeat customers. I’m probably half-way to a free soda.”

Buffy looked at him in shock, surprised at his cavalier attitude, then said, “Uh… the exam, yeah, but maybe not so much with the interview room. Apparently Dad installed security cameras...” Spike’s gaze snapped to Buffy. “…that cover the whole property…” Spike’s face drained of color. “…and Dad swears he deleted the video from the other night, **without** watching it first. He just wants us to do that stuff in our rooms from now on.” 

Spike swallowed hard and nodded. “Right.”

Buffy continued, “Anyway, the whole thing is on video, and it’s pretty clear what happened, so you shouldn’t have to explain very much.” 

Spike blanched and closed his eyes. “You’ve seen it?”

“Yeah.”

Spike sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. “Wish you hadn’t, Buffy.”

“Why?”

His voice was bitter, “’Cause I don’t particularly care to have my girlfriend watch me get pounded on and raped. Not exactly the image I want to portray, is it? Showin’ myself as a useless weakling who couldn’t stop that bastard from…”

Buffy interrupted forcefully, “Hey, stop that. You’re not useless or weak, Spike. I saw how hard you fought. You got a few good shots in and you broke his nose. And you did stop him.”

Spike grimaced. “Yeah, but not before he’d… God, it hurt, Buffy. Still hurts. I managed to escape ‘fore my father could inflict that on me, only to have Finn take up where Da left off.” He clenched his jaw and muttered angrily, “I’ve never done a bleedin’ thing to that tosser, so why would he do that to me?”

“I don’t know, Spike.”

He opened his eyes and looked hard at Buffy. “Do I have ‘Please Hurt Me’ tattooed on my bloody forehead? Christ!”

Buffy jumped as Spike’s shout drew the attention of a few of the people milling around in the driveway. He leaned toward Buffy, laying his forehead against hers. “Sorry, pet. Just a bit… I don’t know.”

Buffy lifted a hand and gently cradled the back of his head. “Pissed off?” 

“Yeah. Could probably do with another go at the punch wall in Miss Maclay’s office once my shoulder’s better. Bloody hell, you’d think the list of things I need to talk to her about would be gettin’ shorter, not longer.”

“You want me to call her?”

He rolled his head against hers. “No. I’ll be seein’ her tomorrow anyway, so no need to pull her away from her son. This’ll keep. I’m fine.”

Buffy scratched lightly at the short hair on the nape of his neck and said quietly, “You know, you keep saying that you’re fine, but it’s completely okay to NOT be fine.”

Spike lifted his head and Buffy dropped her hand. He looked back over at the driveway and blinked a few times before he said, “I know that, pet, but I’m gonna keep holdin’ it together as long as there’s someone around to see me. I’ve made a vow to myself to only break down in private if at all possible, so I’m fine until I’m alone. All right?”

“Like alone alone, or alone with me alone?”

“Alone with you alone, if you think you can handle it, or alone with Miss Maclay, and maybe Angel, but other than you three, it’ll be alone alone. I’ll work it out, Buffy. I’ve survived worse than Riley Finn, and I’ll not let him have the satisfaction of knowin’ I’m affected by what he’s done.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

It was almost three in the morning when Spike and Buffy pulled into her driveway. Spike had been right -- the past several hours had been a bitch to get through and he was nearly at the end of his tether.

Once Mr. Pryce had learned the extent of his injuries, Spike had been transported to the hospital in a second ambulance, even though he’d protested vehemently that he was fine and could get there in Buffy’s car. He’d been taken straight into a private room for the rape exam. He’d been asked if he wanted anyone with him for moral support, but he’d forcefully declined. There was no way he was going to allow Buffy to witness his further degradation. He’d get through it on his own.

He’d had to give his account of the attack, and while the medical staff had done everything in their power to make him comfortable, he’d still felt terribly exposed when he’d been asked to strip while standing on a large sheet of paper, even though he’d been behind a privacy screen. He’d been given a gown then led to a table and helped onto it. They’d drawn several vials of blood then had bared his entire body one bit at a time to take pictures and measurements of his bruises and scrapes. His hair had been combed through thoroughly and then he’d been asked to lay back. His legs had been lifted, spread wide, and set into stirrups that pushed his knees toward his chest. He’d stared unseeingly at the ceiling while perfect strangers lifted and moved his bits, combed through his pubic hair, took pictures, and obtained samples by poking at him with long cotton swabs and wiping the entire area with half a dozen gauze pads. 

He’d thought the ordeal was over at that point, but the doctor had told him they had one more procedure to perform then he’d held up a speculum and asked if Spike wanted them to continue. He’d nodded with a tired sigh and had mumbled, “Might as well. In for a penny, in for a pound.” It had been very nearly like being raped all over again. The speculum wasn’t even half as large as Riley’s dick, but it had hurt just as much when it had been inserted. More samples had been taken and his passage examined under a glaring light.

Thankfully there were only a few tears, several abrasions, moderate swelling, and some bruising. They’d given him pills to soften his stools for the next week so he wouldn’t reopen the tears, a prescription for antibiotics, and a lab slip so he could be tested for STDs in two weeks. Then they’d bagged the clothes he’d been wearing along with all the samples they’d taken and, at his insistence, had shown him to a small bathroom so he could shower before they treated the rest of his injuries. 

From the rape exam, he’d been escorted by Mr. Pryce to the ER where he’d been poked, prodded, x-rayed, and slid into an MRI machine. His ribs had been wrapped tightly in a bandage and his right arm suspended in a sling. He’d been given a prescription for painkillers, which he had no intention of filling, and then he’d been left alone to get dressed. The backpack Buffy had brought from the house had contained a change of clothes and he’d thanked her profusely for thinking of it when he’d entered the ER waiting room, glad that he hadn’t had to go home in the sweats the rape exam doctor had offered him. Mr. Pryce had told him that going to the police station could wait until after Spike had gotten some sleep, and considering that they had the assault on video, it likely wouldn’t take long.

Buffy slid the car into park and turned it off then said, “Hang on. I’ll get the door.”

Spike murmured a thank you and waited for her to gather her things and get out of the car. She opened the door and he tiredly climbed out of the car then followed her into the house. Buffy headed up to the third floor to tell her father that they were back while Spike headed for his room. 

His bed was a welcome sight and he pulled the covers back then carefully sat down and kicked his boots off. He thought about changing into sleep pants then decided that fighting his jeans one-handed was too much trouble. Getting into them one-handed had been hard enough – Mr. Pryce hadn’t thought it would be appropriate for Buffy to assist, and Spike had been completely over having strangers handle his manly parts, so he’d fought his way into his clothes on his own. He lifted his foot, grimacing at a twinge from his ribs, and slipped his sock off. 

He was just lowering his bare foot to the floor when Buffy knocked lightly on the door frame. “Can I come in?”

Spike nodded and lifted his other foot, grimacing again. Buffy took a few hesitant steps into the room then motioned toward the dresser. “I can help you get changed, if you want… um, if that wouldn’t be too… um… but you probably don’t want to be naked in front of people anymore after… um… everything.”

Spike patted the bed next to him. “Sit down, pet.”

She sat, but not close enough that he could wrap his arm around her like he wanted to. He glanced down at the empty space between them then looked up at her. “I’ve no problem bein’ starkers in front of you, luv, and why’d you knock on an open door, and why are you way over there?”

She reached behind her and pulled a folded pamphlet from her back pocket. “Mr. Pryce talked to me and gave me this while you were in the ER. He said I should respect your boundaries and ask permission before I touch you because…”

Spike sighed. “Because I’ve just been through a traumatic event. That’s why you haven’t touched me at all since they turned me loose.”

“Mr. Pryce said something about flashbacks and I don’t want to make things worse.”

“There’s no way you could, luv. The only way I’m gonna associate anythin’ you do with what Finn did is if you throw me to the ground and twist my arm up my back, which I’m thinkin’ is a rather unlikely thing to happen. I need you to treat me normally, Buffy. Touch me. Take the piss with me. Get annoyed with me. But please don’t treat me as if I’m made of glass. I need you to believe that I can get through this.”

Buffy nodded then slid closer and Spike wrapped his arm around her. She laid her head on his shoulder and lifted her hand to twine her fingers with his. “I wish I could sleep in here with you, but Dad says I’m still grounded.”

Spike chuckled quietly. “You’d think my ‘traumatic event’ would garner a bit of leeway.”

Buffy lifted her head and looked at him. “He said he wants to talk to you tomorrow, when you’re not busy.”

“About what?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Guess you’ll find out tomorrow.” She leaned up for a gentle kiss. “I have to get to my room soon. Do you want me to help you change?”

He nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Okay.” She stood up then pulled Spike to his feet with his good arm. “I’ll get your pajamas. You get as far as you can with your jeans.”

“All right, pet.” Spike popped the buttons of his jeans then stood there. “That’s as far as I can get.”

Buffy looked over her shoulder from the dresser and smiled. “You just like it when I take your clothes off, don’t you?”

Spike smiled back. “Love it when you take my clothes off, kitten.”

The interaction was a little forced and they both felt it, but they pushed on anyway, trying to act as normally as possible.

“I need to talk to Dad tomorrow, too. I want to see if he’ll give me a copy of you and Angel in the back yard when you’re shirtless and sweaty. I’ll load it on my phone so I can watch it anytime.”

“Better get a copy for Cordy, too. Bet she’d like that.”

Buffy tossed a pair of sleep pants on the bed then walked over to the door and closed it. When she was standing in front of Spike again, she reached tentatively for his jeans and asked quietly, “Do you want me to do anything?”

Spike looked down at her hands. “Uh… besides help me out of my jeans?”

She dropped her head and closed her eyes. “I don’t know if doing something now is good or bad. I mean… I want to show you that I still want you, that I don’t think you’re ‘damaged goods’ like that pamphlet said you’d think, but I don’t want you to feel violated again because it’s so soon after…” She looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes. “I don’t know what do to, Spike.”

Spike reached for her hand and clasped it tightly. “I appreciate the offer, pet, but right now all I want to do is sleep. Tomorrow, when I’m feelin’ better and you’ve had some rest, we can use the hour I’m allowed in your room to see if either of us feels like doin’ anything. All right?”

She gave a small sniffle then nodded. “Okay.” She tugged his jeans down as carefully as she could then squatted down to help him get his feet out. She snagged the sleep pants off the bed and reversed the process then stood and slid them carefully up. When she’d reached to just below his genitals with the waistband, she stopped. “Do you want to get them the rest of the way?”

“You can touch me, kitten. It’s all right.” She nodded again and finished pulling the pants up, gently sliding them over his backside then tucking him under the waistband. When that was done she looked up at him and he smiled. “Could use a kiss, if you don’t mind.”

She smiled back. “I don’t mind, but let’s get your shirt off and get you tucked in first.” Spike had just pulled his t-shirt on over his sling, so Buffy carefully lifted then slid it over his head and down his left arm.

He got into bed, lying back on the pillow with a small groan of pain. Buffy pulled the covers over him and laid them gently over his bound arm. “Are you gonna be able to sleep while you’re wearing that?”

He smirked wryly up at her. “I slept cuffed to a post for several months, pet. Think I can handle it.”

“Right.” She crawled up the bed then lay down on his left side, propping herself up on her elbow. She leaned down and kissed him lightly then reached up to trace her fingertips over his forehead and eyebrows. Her fingers slid over a bump in his left eyebrow and she looked closer. “What’s this scar from?”

“The post. Da slammed my head into it.”

Buffy muttered under her breath, “Douchebag,” then she leaned down and gave it a gentle kiss. She feathered kisses down across his cheek then planted a firmer kiss on his lips. Spike slipped his left arm underneath her and tugged her closer, opening his mouth and deepening the kiss as he did. 

When the kiss broke, they were both breathing fast and Spike was smirking up at her. Buffy laughed and asked, “What’s that look for?”

Spike nodded down toward his feet. “Things down south are still in fine workin’ order, it would seem.”

Buffy looked then smiled at the bulge under the blankets. “Well, if you feel ‘up’ to it tomorrow, I’ll check that out.”

Spike tugged her down for another kiss and mumbled against her lips. “Lookin’ forward to it, kitten.” 

She glanced at the clock when that kiss broke and scowled. “Crap. It’s almost four. I should try to get at least a few hours sleep for school tomorrow… or actually today.” Spike reluctantly dropped his arm and she got up off the bed. “I’ll stop in before I leave and check on you.” He nodded and she walked to the door. “I love you, Spike.”

He smiled. “I love you, too, Buffy. See you when you get home.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Spike opened his eyes and groaned. Everything hurt. Absolutely everything. He felt like he’d only been asleep for ten minutes, but the light streaming through the windows told him it was nearing noon. He rolled his head on the pillow and looked at the clock. 10:38.

He turned his head back and stared up at the ceiling. He’d been raped last night. Raped. It was a simple word. Only five letters. So why did saying it in his head make him feel like he was being crushed under a house-sized block of concrete? How was he going to get past it? Yeah, he’d put up a pretty good front for everyone last night, acting like it hardly mattered that he’d escaped his father’s torture only to be thrown down and violated in his girlfriend’s garden. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, as it were, but how was he supposed to go on, knowing that anyone, anytime, could do the same thing and he’d be powerless to stop it? 

He reached up and rubbed at his forehead. Maybe he did have some sort of tattoo there that advertised him as easy prey to the psychopaths of the world. He dropped his hand back to the bed and continued to stare up at the ceiling. At least he hadn’t had a nightmare last night. The terror and pain of the previous evening had apparently pre-empted the terror and pain of his dreams, although, if he had to choose, the nightmares were looking to be a bit more enjoyable than his ‘traumatic event.’

His bladder suddenly reminded him of its existence and he threw the covers back then slowly sat up. His ribs reminded him of their existence, rather loudly, and then his shoulder decided to join the party. His asshole, not wanting to be left out, twinged sharply as he stood up and Spike sighed. Yeah, it was gonna be a wonderful day.

XXXX

Angel stood up from the couch when Spike stepped off the stairs. “Hey.”

Spike nodded at him and turned for the kitchen, saying over his shoulder, “Hey.”

Angel followed him in to the kitchen and sat on a stool while Spike opened the fridge and took out his breakfast. Spike slid the plate onto the counter then opened the microwave and put the plate inside. When the microwave beeped, he took the plate out and set it on the island then grabbed a fork out of the drawer and sat down – carefully – to eat. 

Spike was three-quarters of the way through his food when Angel asked quietly, “So… what’s with the cool new fashion accessories?”

Spike looked over at him then back down at his plate. “Buffy didn’t tell you?”

“She said you got hurt last night and that I should wait until you were ready to tell me about it.”

Spike smiled faintly at his breakfast. “Guess the waitin’ thing just wasn’t workin’ out, huh?”

Angel chuckled. “Not really. She didn’t give me any details, so when you walked down the stairs like you’re ninety years old with your arm in a sling, it kind of got me wondering.” He leaned his elbows on the counter. “It was Riley, wasn’t it?”

Spike nodded. “Yeah. It was Riley.”

“He’s not still staying here after…” Angel waved at Spike’s sling and the bandages around his middle.

“No. Far as I know, he’s in jail. From what Mr. Pryce said, he’ll be there for a while.”

“What are they charging him with? If he doesn’t already have a record, he’ll probably just get probation.”

Spike popped the last bite of eggs into his mouth then stood and picked up his plate. He deposited it in the sink then turned and leaned on the counter. “The cop who arrested him said he’s being charged with resisting arrest, attempted assault on a police officer, aggravated battery, and rape.”

Angel’s mouth dropped open then he closed it and whispered, “Riley… raped you?”

Spike nodded. “Yeah.”

“How? I mean I know how, but… what… I mean…” Angel trailed off at the look on Spike’s face. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Sorry.”

Spike walked over to the back door and looked out the window. “It happened out there.” He leaned his forehead on the glass. “Went out to catch some fresh air and ended up with several cracked ribs, a severely sprained shoulder, and Finn’s cock up my arse.”

Angel blinked at Spike’s back. “I knew Riley was violent, but… God, Spike. Rape?”

Spike blew out a breath. “Don’t think that was his plan to start out. Think he just meant to pound on me a bit, but when I tried that throw you taught me, my foot slipped and we fell. He landed on my back and…” He turned to face Angel. “Is there anythin’ I could have done? Is there some move I could have used to get him off me?”

Angel stuttered, “Uh… I don’t know, Spike. I’d have to know how you were positioned, how he was holding you, how his weight was distributed, what the ground was like that you were laying on. If he had you pinned face down…” He motioned to Spike’s sling. “Was he holding your arm up behind your back?”

Spike nodded. “Yeah. He had his arm around my neck and held my wrist with that hand.”

“Were his legs on the inside or outside of yours?”

“Outside with his feet locked over my ankles.”

Angel shook his head. “Then there really wasn’t anything you could do. That’s a submission hold. It’s meant to immobilize someone until they stop resisting.” Angel finally realized what Spike was getting at and leaned toward him. “It’s not your fault, Spike. Just because he landed on you doesn’t mean he’s allowed to stick his dick in you.”

Spike grimaced and turned around. “I know that, but I should have been able to stop him. I tried, but he’s just so much larger than I am.”

Angel stood and moved closer to Spike, but not close enough that Spike would feel crowded. “I’m almost as big as Riley and if he had me in the same hold… I wouldn’t be able to stop him, either, Spike. It’s not your fault.”

Spike chuckled bitterly. “You ever hear that sayin’, ‘God only gives you what you can handle?’” 

“Yeah, I’ve heard it.”

“Then God must think I’m a bloody badass.” He leaned his forehead on the glass again. “I’m so tired, Angel. Just don’t know if I have it in me to fight anymore, especially if things like this are going to keep happening.”


	47. Grin and Bear It

Bruises  
Chapter 47 – Grin and Bear It

A knock sounded on the front door and Angel looked out the kitchen window. “Don’t recognize the car.”

“I’ll get it.” Spike lifted his head from the glass and turned slowly then started plodding toward the front door. He opened the door and sighed at the person on the porch. “Time for that then?” He turned for the stairs. “Guess I’ll go get ready.”

Wesley held up a hand. “You’re not expected at the station until two, Spike.”

Spike turned back around. “Then why are you here now?”

“I’m here to collect Riley’s things and…” He blinked as Angel stepped up behind Spike. “Oh, hello.” He stepped into the house, his hand extended toward Angel. “I’m Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, and you are?”

Angel grasped his hand and shook it firmly. “Angel O’Connor.”

Wesley glanced at Spike then looked back at Angel. “May I inquire as to your reason for being here? I was under the impression that Spike was alone in the house.”

“I’m hanging out with Spike while I’m suspended from school. Mr. Giles knows I’m here.”

“I see. Why were you suspended?”

Angel chuckled. “Lots of reasons, but they all boil down to I was being a dick.”

Wesley blinked and Spike mumbled, “Angel’s my sitter, Mr. Pryce. You want me to fetch Finn’s things?”

Wesley looked at Spike and shook his head. “No, I’ll collect them. Also, Riley asked me to… uh…” Spike had moved to the wall and was leaning tiredly against it, his face screwed up in pain. “Are you all right, Spike?”

Spike wiped the pained grimace off his face and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. What does Finn want?”

“He asked me to prevent you from injuring his dog.”

Spike blinked. “Why would I do that?”

“He believes you’ll take out your anger at him on his dog.”

Spike sighed and tipped his head back to rest against the wall. “The bloody dog didn’t rape me, Mr. Pryce, and just because its owner’s a nutter who gets off on beatin’ innocent bystanders doesn’t mean I’m the same way. I’m not gonna do anythin’ to the soddin’ dog.”

“Where is the dog?”

“Don’t have a bloody clue. I only saw it for a few minutes last night when I got home from my appointment with Miss Maclay.”

Angel nodded toward the ceiling. “I’ll go check Riley’s room and grab his crap while I’m up there.” He motioned to the couch. “You’d better sit down, Spike. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Spike gave a slight nod then made his way to the couch, sitting down carefully. Wesley followed him and sat down on the edge of the chair. “Mr. O’Connor is right. You do not look at all well.”

Spike glared over at him and snapped, “Any particular reason that I should?” He tried to shift to a more comfortable position. “Because you moved that tosser into this house, I got beaten to a bloody pulp again, not to mention violated, so I think I’ve earned the right to look a bit unwell.” Spike saw Wesley start to open his mouth and spoke before Wesley could, “And no, I don’t need to go to bloody hospital. I’ll live, Mr. Pryce, and I don’t want to talk about it, so leave off.”

They sat in uncomfortable silence until Angel came back down the stairs with Riley’s bag slung over his shoulder and Bear following behind him. Angel dropped the bag on the floor next to the coffee table then hooked a thumb toward the back yard. “I think the dog needs to go outside. I didn’t find any accidents in Riley’s room, but if he’s been up there since last night, he’s probably gotta go pretty bad.”

Spike nodded. “His name’s Bear, by the way.”

Angel turned toward the kitchen and slapped his leg. “C’mon, Bear! You wanna go outside?” Bear wagged his tail and followed Angel out into the back yard.

Spike looked over at Wesley. “Now that you’ve verified I didn’t beat the bloody dog to death, what do you plan to do with it?”

“Take it to the shelter, most likely. Riley doesn’t have any family to care for it.”

They were silent again until Bear came limping into the living room. He walked up to Wesley and gave him a sniff then headed for Spike. Spike eyed the animal warily as it sniffed his bare feet and lower legs then laid its head on his knee. Spike reached out a tentative hand and scratched the dog lightly behind the ears, smiling a bit when his tail started waving back and forth.

Angel stepped into the living room. “I couldn’t find dog bags, so I grabbed a plastic shopping bag out of the box next to the fridge.”

Spike looked over at Angel in confusion. “Dog bags? What’s a dog bag?”

“To pick up the poop.”

Spike grimaced and looked back down at the dog. He’d stopped scratching and Bear was nuzzling his hand. Spike murmured quietly at the dog, “That’s quite disgusting, you know,” as he started scratching again.

Angel smiled. “I think he likes you, Spike.”

Spike glanced at Angel with a small smile. “I’ve never really been around dogs, but he seems all right.”

Wesley said quietly, “I could leave him here for you to care for, if you’d like.”

Spike quirked an incredulous eyebrow at Wesley. “You want me to care for my rapist’s dog?”

Wesley coughed uncomfortably, “Well… yes. You stated that it wasn’t the dog’s fault… and caring for another creature, one you know will love you unconditionally, helps one to heal.”

Spike snapped, “Didn’t do fuck-all for Finn, did it?” Wesley looked abashed, but wisely stayed silent as Spike considered the idea. After a few minutes, he lifted his good shoulder in a shrug. “I suppose I could look after the dog. This isn’t my house, though, so I’d have to clear it with Mr. Giles.” He ruffled the fur on Bear’s head and said to the dog, “Plus, me havin’ you will drive that bastard right ‘round the bend… not that he isn’t most of the way there already.”

Wesley raised a cautious hand. “You won’t…”

Spike rolled his eyes. “No, I’ll not harm the animal. Already said I wouldn’t, didn’t I? But even if you tell Finn I’ve promised not to hurt Bear, he’ll still paint me with his nutter brush, ‘cause if our positions were reversed, hurtin’ my dog is somethin’ he’d likely have already done.” Spike patted the couch next to him and Bear jumped up and laid down with his head on Spike’s leg. Spike laid his arm over the dog’s back and smiled over at Wesley. “Considerin’ how long I spent bein’ terrified of that tosser, I’m perfectly fine with lettin’ him worry ‘bout what I’m gonna do for a change.” He leaned forward just a bit, the smile dropping from his face as he said in a hard voice, “So you make sure to let the fucker know I have his dog.”

Angel smirked at Wesley’s scandalized expression and said. “Karma’s a bitch.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

“Angel could have driven me here, Mr. Pryce. I’m sure you have other things to be gettin’ on with, and it’s not like I’ve never done this before.”

Wesley tutted. “Not at all, Spike. I will be with you every step of the way, ensuring that you’re treated fairly and with compassion.”

Spike sighed. “It’s just an interview. They ask questions, I answer them. Nothin’ to it.”

Wesley climbed out of the car and walked around to Spike’s door. He opened it and waited while Spike hauled himself out. “It’s not just an interview; it’s a deposition. You won’t be asked any questions, aside from your name and other identifying information, unless a point needs to be clarified. You’re meant to tell your side of what happened.”

“What ‘bout the video? I figured I’d just have to fill in the audio parts, since I doubt it has sound.”

“It has been submitted into evidence, but cannot be viewed by either side until the discovery portion of the case has been completed. Taking depositions from all involved parties is part of the discovery process.”

“Finn’s already told his side?” Wesley nodded and Spike stopped walking and looked over at him. “What did he say?” 

Wesley coughed and said, “His story contradicts yours on a few points.”

“Which points?” Wesley looked slightly constipated and Spike chuckled bitterly. “Finn said it was consensual or somethin’, didn’t he? That I wanted it? That I liked it rough? This is un-bloody-believable. That lyin’ son of a bitch!” Spike waved his arm angrily and started stomping toward the station. “Whatever. I’ll tell my story and then I’m bloody done. Lock him up or don’t. I don’t bloody care anymore.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

“And then Officers Ashworth and Crichton arrived. Do I need to continue past that?”

“No, Spike, I think we have everything we need.” Mr. O’Connor motioned to the officer sitting in the corner. “You can turn off the camera.” 

Spike leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Am I done then? Can I go, sir?”

“Yes, you’re free to go. I’ll be in contact soon to go over the case with you.” The officer standing by the door waved a small piece of paper at him and he leaned over in his chair and took it from her then read it. He looked up at Spike and smiled. “You’re free to go to the hospital. Your girlfriend is here to pick you up. Your mother’s awake.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Spike clasped Buffy’s hand tightly as they made their way to Anne’s room. When they reached the door, Spike stopped and leaned down to whisper, “No mention of the rape. None. Mum doesn’t need the added stress.”

Buffy nodded. “Okay, Spike, I won’t say anything, but how are you going to explain the sling?”

“I’ll tell her the truth, just not the whole truth.” He pasted a smile on his face and pushed the door open.

Anne was sitting up in bed with only one tube connected to her arm instead of the multitude of things that had been attached to her the last time they’d visited. Her face lit with joy when she saw Spike then she frowned when her eyes fell on the sling. “What happened to you, William?”

He walked over and leaned down, squeezing her gently in a one-armed hug. “Just a scrap with a bloke from school. Don’t worry, Mum, I’m fine. I promise.” 

Anne scowled at the sling when he stood up. “It would seem otherwise, William.”

Spike wiggled the fingers on his right hand. “Just a sprain, is all. Few weeks in this and I’ll be right as rain.” He sat down on the bed and took her hand in his. “Broke his nose, too, so he’ll not be botherin’ me anymore, Mum. Now, enough ‘bout me, how are you? What did the doctors say? Can we get you out of here?”

Anne’s eyes were still on the sling and she raised them slowly to Spike’s face. “I’ve apparently expelled most of the poison. They want to keep me a few more days, but the doctor says if I continue to do as well as I am now, I should be released on Monday. I’ll be weaker than normal for several months and will have to not push myself past my limits, but I’ll eventually make a full recovery.”

Spike smiled broadly. “That’s wonderful news, Mum.”

Anne smiled back then glanced at Buffy before looking back at Spike, particularly at his hair. “It would seem you have some news to tell me as well. What has been happening while I’ve been indisposed? Were you attacked by a roving band of rogue hairstylists?”

Spike laughed. “No, Mum. Was Buffy’s idea. What do you think?”

She reached up and lightly grasped his chin, turning his head. “It’s… different, but I think it suits you.”

Buffy smiled at Anne from behind Spike. “Really brings out his cheekbones and eyes, doesn’t it?”

Anne nodded. “Yes, it does.” She grasped Spike’s hand. “Tell me everything.”

Spike squeezed her hand. “I’ve gotten a job, Mum, in a bookstore. I start Saturday.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Buffy nudged Spike’s knee. “Your appointment is in ten minutes.”

Anne glanced at the clock. “What do you have an appointment for at this hour?”

“Miss Maclay. I’m the last patient on her schedule.”

“Has she been of help to you, William?

“She’s been wonderful, Mum. She’s helped me through a lot of my… issues, I guess. Still have some things to work out, but I’m doing all right. I’m handling things.” He got up off the bed then bent to squeeze his mother in a hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mum. I love you.” 

Anne smiled up at him. “I love you, too, William. See you tomorrow.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Spike threw a weak punch at the wall then leaned his forehead against it. “It’s not the rape I’m havin’ a problem with, Miss Maclay. I mean, yeah, I have a problem with it, but…”

Tara said quietly from her chair, “It’s because he made you feel powerless. He took away your ability to control what happens to you shortly after you’d gotten it back.”

Spike turned around and leaned back against the training mat, his eyes on the floor in front of his feet. “Yeah. And part of me, hell, most of me feels like it’s my fault. If I hadn’t gone outside, it wouldn’t have happened. If I’d scarpered after I’d gotten away from him the first time ‘stead of standin’ my ground, it wouldn’t have happened. If I’d been wearin’ my jeans, he might not have been able to… There’s so many things I could have done differently or not at all and…” He drew in a shaky breath and wrapped his left arm around his middle, cradling the arm in the sling. 

Tara got out of her chair and walked over to Spike, standing in front of him until he raised his eyes to meet hers. “Nothing you did or didn’t do makes what happened your fault.”

Spike nodded vaguely and looked down again. “I knew Finn was gay… or bi, or whatever the preferred term is these days, but I didn’t think he had any interest in me other than as his own personal punchin’ bag. Him wantin’ to shag me never even entered into my thoughts.”

Tara moved to stand beside Spike and leaned back against the wall. “Rape is very rarely about sexual gratification, Spike. It’s almost always about power and dominance over another person.”

“Yeah, that’s what the pamphlet said that Mr. Pryce gave to Buffy, but… Finn told me he’d watched Buffy and I… uh…”

“Being intimate with each other?”

“Yeah. And part of me thinks he was angry because **he** wanted me, and due to his upbringing, bein’ violent with me was the only way he could show it.”

“He wasn’t trying to have sex with you because he likes you, Spike. He was trying to control one thing in a life that was spiraling out of control, but whatever his reasons, what he did to you was wrong, and it’s not your fault.”

Spike leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. “I was wigglin’ underneath him, tryin’ to get away, and he… he said it felt good. I stopped movin’ and he punched me a few times, tellin’ me to start up again. If I had… If I’d let him rub one off on my arse, maybe he…” Spike trailed off.

“Would have been satisfied with that and let you go?” Spike nodded, bumping his head lightly against the training mat. “Would you feel any differently if that’s what had happened?”

Spike sighed. “No, probably not. Like I said, it’s not the rape so much as it’s the feelin’ of helplessness. Havin’ somethin’ shoved up my arse is just pain and I’ve been dealin’ with pain for a long time, but now I’m scared that it’ll happen again. That the next bloke to see me as an easy target will do whatever he wants and I’ll be powerless to stop it.”

He pushed away from the wall and walked over to the couch, sitting down carefully and picking up his bottle of juice. He took a drink then balanced the bottle on his knee and stared at it. “So there’s that. And then there’s the flip side of nobody will touch me. It’s like I’m tainted or somethin’. Buffy’s the only one who has since it happened, aside from the doctors and cops and such. Well, and my Mum, but she doesn’t know what happened. Spent a few hours with Angel this mornin’… nothin’. Mr. Pryce shook Angel’s hand, but not mine. Not one person at the station this afternoon shook my hand or put a hand on my back to guide me anywhere like they do, not even Mr. O’Connor or Detective LeHane.” He looked over at Tara. “Am I tainted? Do they think they’re gonna catch somethin’ if they touch me?”

Tara followed him over to the couch and sat down beside him, reaching out to catch the bottle of juice as it fell off his knee. She handed it back to him then wrapped her hands around his as he took the bottle. “You’re not tainted, Spike. People who know what’s happened to you are giving you space. Almost everyone you’ve dealt with so far, aside from Angel and Buffy, are trained on how to treat rape survivors. Most don’t want to be touched. At all. By anyone. It takes a while for them to be comfortable with that again.”

Spike looked down at her hands wrapped around his. “So how do I let people know that I’d rather be touched than not? Well, the people who don’t want to pound on me or rape me, at any rate. How do I get people to treat me like they did before the rape? Everyone’s handlin’ me with kid gloves, like I’m gonna shatter if they look at me askance. It’s gonna take me longer to get past this if everyone keeps treatin’ me like a bomb about to explode. If everyone would just treat me normally… I’d just got used to being touched again, and now… I know it hasn’t even been a full day, but… I miss it.” He sighed and twitched his hand. Tara let go and he lifted the bottle to his mouth.

“It will take time, Spike, and it’s all right to let people know that you’re okay with handshakes or casual touches. If you’re in a handshake type of situation, go ahead and make the first move.” She got up to move back to her chair. When she was settled, she asked, “Can you tell me what you’ve been feeling today?”

“Pain, mostly, but I’m guessin’ you mean emotions, right?”

She nodded. “You mentioned that you’re fearful of this happening again.”

“Yeah, but it’s not… I don’t feel it all the time. It’s there, yeah, but mostly in the background, like a telly left on in another room.”

“What about anger?”

Spike clenched his jaw. “Yeah, I’m angry.”

“At the situation or at specific people?”

“Both.”

“Have you felt angry with anyone besides Riley?”

Spike nodded as he gripped the juice bottle a little tighter. “Yeah. Mr. Pryce. I snapped at him a few times today. Was rude enough that if my Mum had heard, she would’ve been scandalized and would’ve scolded me harshly.”

“Why are you angry with Mr. Pryce?”

Spike looked over at her. “Because he’s the git who put Finn in the bloody house! I know I can’t really blame him for that, considerin’ he’d only met Finn that day, but…” Spike set the juice bottle down hard on the coffee table and stood up, pacing around the room. “Mr. Giles knew what he was like and he still allowed it! He’s known Finn for years! He had to know what the blighter was capable of!”

Tara had turned in her chair so she could watch Spike. “So you feel he’s more to blame than Mr. Pryce.” 

Spike nodded and stepped toward the training mat, throwing another punch. “I haven’t spoken to him yet today, but Buffy said he wants to talk to me, and I have a feelin’ he’s gonna apologize, and…” He turned to face her, his hand still clenched into a fist. “I’m afraid I’m gonna explode if he does, but I have to smile and nod and accept what he says. I don’t have any other choice.”

“Why don’t you have a choice?”

Spike’s face screwed up into an angry scowl. “Because I don’t have anywhere else to go! That’s why I agreed to Finn bein’ there in the first place! Because I can’t tell him what to do in his own house! And if I tell him I think he’s mostly at fault for what happened to me, what do you think he’s gonna do? Boot me right out, that’s what! So I have to grin and bear it, least ‘till Mum’s out of hospital and we can find another place. And I’ll have to keep bearing it after that or he’ll keep Buffy from me. I’d love to tell Mr. Giles **exactly** what I think, but I can’t.”


	48. Shouting and Tears

Bruises  
Chapter 48 – Shouting and Tears

Buffy startled slightly when the door suddenly opened and Tara’s head popped out. “Could you come in here for a minute, Buffy?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Buffy got to her feet and stepped into the room. Spike was standing in front of the training mat, his forehead resting on it as he lightly swung his left fist into it over and over. Tara motioned to the couch and Buffy walked over and sat down.

Tara sat in her chair then turned to Spike and asked, “Do I still have your consent to speak to Buffy about you?”

Spike mumbled, “Yeah.”

Tara turned back to face Buffy. “Spike is angry.”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah, I get that.”

“At your father.”

Buffy nodded again. “Still with the getting. I’m pretty pissed at him, too.”

Tara glanced at Spike then back to Buffy. “He’s afraid that if he makes those feelings known, your father will kick him out of your house and not allow contact with you.”

Buffy stood and walked over to Spike. She reached out, sliding one hand down his back while the other slid down his arm to grasp his hand. She leaned her forehead on his shoulder and said quietly, “I won’t let him keep us apart, Spike, and he’s not gonna kick you out. I’ve yelled at him a lot and he’s never kicked me out.”

Spike mumbled to the wall, “You’re his daughter, Buffy. ‘Course he won’t kick you out. He doesn’t have the same obligation to me.”

Tara said from her chair, “Actually, he does. He agreed to guardianship, which gives him the same rights and responsibilities as a parent.”

Spike looked over his shoulder at Tara and snapped, “Is he Finn’s guardian as well? ‘Cause Finn’s no longer in residence.”

If Spike’s tone bothered Tara, she didn’t show it. Her voice was calm and quiet when she said, “Riley became violent and broke the law. Once he did that, he became a ward of the state. You can be angry with Mr. Giles, Spike, and you can tell him exactly why you’re angry, but as long as you don’t threaten him, strike him, or damage his property, he can’t legally have you removed from the house.”

Buffy squeezed his hand. “And no matter what my Dad says, I won’t let him remove you from me, either.”

XXXX

There was a lot of shouting coming from her father’s office, all of it from Spike. Buffy leaned against the wall in the hallway, Bear leaning against her leg as she combed her fingers through the fur on his neck. The shouting stopped after several minutes and she leaned forward a little, straining to hear what was going on. She heard the low rumble of male voices and leaned back against the wall, murmuring to Bear, “Well, Dad isn’t yelling and I don’t hear anything getting broken, so I guess that’s a good sign.”

The door jerked open and Spike stepped into the hall. He slapped his thigh and said, “C’mon, Bear.” The dog got up and started to follow Spike toward the back door. “I’m gonna take him out then I’m goin’ to my room. Your Da wants to talk to you.”

Buffy watched until the door closed behind them then she pushed off the wall and walked into her father’s office, closing the door behind her. Giles was leaning back in his chair, his glasses dangling from one hand as he pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. Buffy perched on the corner of his desk and said quietly, “I’m going to keep seeing him, Dad, no matter what you say. I love him.”

Giles dropped the hand from his face and looked over at her. “I’m aware of that, Buffy, and I have no plans to try to separate you two.”

“So what happened in here?”

Giles sighed heavily and set his glasses on the desktop. “I’m sure you heard, being that you were standing in the hall.”

“I heard Spike yelling, but I don’t know what he said.”

“When he came in here, I tried to apologize, but that seemed to anger him, so I asked him to tell me exactly what was on his mind. I assured him that there would be no repercussions levied by me for expressing his feelings then I sat here and allowed Spike to shout at me for several minutes. When he’d finished, I told him I concurred with his assessment of the situation and that I would endeavor not to repeat my grievous mistake. I accepted full responsibility for my part in the attack and then told him that I greatly respected him for being strong enough to call me on it.”

Buffy blinked. “So why does he still look pissed off?”

“I would imagine he is doing his level best to keep a brave face. He very nearly broke down towards the end of our conversation.”

Buffy nodded. “He’s been a little moody, but Tara told me that’s normal for rape survivors. They’re angry one minute and depressed the next. Thanks for letting him vent, Dad, and thanks for not yelling back at him. I’m gonna go help Mom with dinner.” She started to get up off the desk.

“I still need to talk to you, Buffy.”

Buffy sat back down. “About what?”

“Anne will be released from the hospital on Monday, barring further complications, and she’s asked that your mother and I continue as Spike’s guardians.”

Buffy blinked again. “What? Why?”

“She needs to make arrangements for housing, but until she has, she’ll have to live in her house…”

Buffy interrupted, “And she doesn’t want Spike to have to live there.”

“Yes. From what I understand, her husband’s lawyer has already put the house on the market, but it’s not a quick process, and until the sale of the business goes through, she is fairly short on funds for the purchase or lease of alternate housing. She’s already spoken to her former employer, though, and they’ve told her she can resume her position as soon as she’s able.”

“Okay. Not really sure why you’re telling me this instead of Spike.”

“Because I fear that he is still rather angry with me, and I don’t want to make him feel as if I’m keeping him from his mother on top of everything else. I think he’ll take the news easier if it comes from you. She is, of course, welcome to stay here if she wishes, and I did offer that option, but she declined.”

“Did she say why?”

Giles smiled wryly. “She indicated that it would be too awkward for Spike to have his mother in the house while he’s doing things of an adult nature with you.”

Buffy’s cheeks turned slightly pink. “Oh. So she knows we’ve…”

Giles cleared his throat. “I am not aware of what, exactly, she knows, and while I know that you two have been intimate, I don’t care to know the details, either.”

Buffy stood up and started for the door. “Right. So I’ll tell Spike that he’s staying here until his mom can get stuff figured out.” She stopped and turned around. “Maybe she could eat dinner with us every day, if she wants to.”

Giles smiled. “That’s an excellent idea, Buffy.”

XXXX

Spike was lying on his bed with Bear beside him, his arm laying on the dog’s back and Bear’s head resting on his stomach. He looked over at the door when Buffy stepped through it and smiled. She smiled back and said, “I think somebody’s in my spot.” She sat down next to Spike and reached over to give Bear a couple of scratches.

Spike chuckled and sat up, gently pushing Bear off him. “Kept tryin’ to get him to lay down on the floor, but he whines whenever he’s not right next to me.”

“Dogs are pretty good at reading emotions. He’s probably trying to cheer you up.”

Spike ruffled the dog’s fur. “He’s not doin’ too bad a job. Don’t feel nearly as angry as I did a little while ago.”

“Is that all because of Bear?”

Spike smiled faintly. “Might be because I shouted most of it out of my system, and when your Da took responsibility for lettin’ Finn in the house… well… sort of took the rest of the wind out of my anger sails.”

“Okay, so if I tell you something, you won’t get more wind in your anger sails?”

Spike looked at her warily. “Depends on what you tell me.”

“Um… Your Mom wants you to stay here after she gets out of the hospital and let my parents keep guardianship of you.” At Spike’s gutted look, she hurried to continue, “But only until she figures out somewhere else for you guys to live. She doesn’t want you to have to live in your house anymore, and right now she can’t afford to live anywhere else. Your house has to sell first.”

Bear was trying to push his head into Spike’s lap as Spike swallowed hard then took a deep breath. He hugged the dog to his stomach and said in a quiet voice, “Okay, yeah, I understand that, I guess.”

“And my Dad offered to let her stay here, but she said it would be too awkward for you to be getting your freak on with me while she’s in the same house.”

Spike choked out a bark of laughter. “My Mum, Annabeth Giselle Smythe-Pratt, said, ‘get your freak on?’” 

Buffy giggled, “No, but that’s what she meant.”

Spike nodded, chuckling quietly, “I guess I can see her point.” His tone turned serious. “I’d live in that house if I had to, but I’d rather not.” He looked down at the dog in his lap. “Does your Da have any objections to Mum visiting me here?”

“No. I said she could eat dinner with us every day if she wanted to. He thought it was a good idea. Speaking of dinner, that’s why I came up here. It’s time for dinner.”

Spike pushed the dog off him again and swung his legs off the bed, grimacing slightly. “Speaking of awkward, it’s gonna be awkward tryin’ to have polite dinner conversation with your Da after I spent nearly ten minutes shoutin’ at him.”

“He understands, Spike, and he knows you’re still mad at him, so he’ll probably just leave you alone.”

Spike looked up at her. “But I’m not anymore, not really. Like I said, havin’ someone actually take responsibility for the pain they’ve caused you pretty much cancels out the anger. I’m still angry it happened, but now my anger is directed solely at Finn. I’m just embarrassed to face your Da because of my behavior.”

“I’m sure he understands that, too, Spike. And since you’re both English, just do that stiff-upper-lippy thing and he’ll do the stiff-upper-lippy thing and you’ll be fine.”

Spike chuckled as he got to his feet and Bear jumped off the bed to stand beside him. “Do you think he’ll be all right up here by himself?”

Buffy shook her head. “It’s dinner time for him, too. Mom put his dishes in a corner of the dining room.”

Spike smacked himself in the forehead. “I didn’t even think. How often am I supposed to feed him? Does he even have food here?”

“Yeah, he has a bag of food in the pantry, and dogs get fed once or twice a day, depending on the dog. As big as he is, he should probably eat twice a day.”

XXXX

Buffy showed Spike where Bear’s food was and together they read the instructions on the bag to figure out how much to feed him. “How much does he weigh, do you think?”

Buffy shrugged. “No idea.”

Joyce pulled the milk out of the fridge and said, “Riley said he weighed about 150 pounds.”

They consulted the bag again and Spike pointed to the chart. “It says six to eight cups. Is that per feeding or per day?”

Joyce said, “Per day,” as she turned to a drawer and pulled out a measuring cup. She carried it over and handed it to Spike. “So you should give him four of these per feeding to start out. We’ll keep an eye on his weight and if he starts to gain, we can cut back a little.”

Spike nodded and scooped four cups of food out of the bag into Bear’s bowl. He handed the cup to Buffy and she looked at her mother questioningly. Joyce waved a hand. “Just leave it in the bag. I have more.”

Spike looked at the half-empty bag of dog food then at the heaping mound of kibble in the bowl. “Good thing I’ve gotten a job, considerin’ how much Bear eats. Just hope that bag’ll last ‘til I get paid.”

Buffy nodded as she dropped the cup into the bag then rolled the top down. “And this is the good dog food, too, not the cheap kind.”

Joyce said, “I’ll cover Bear’s food until you get your feet under you, Spike.”

Spike nodded his head in thanks. “I’d appreciate that, Joyce, thanks, and I’ll pay you back soon as I’m able.” He carried the bowl to Bear’s corner in the dining room where there was a raised platform to keep the bowls off the floor and make it easier for a large dog to eat. He put the food bowl in its slot then picked up the water bowl and carried it to the kitchen sink. Joyce waved Buffy back out to the dining room and she nodded, backing out of the kitchen and closing the door. Joyce stepped up next to Spike as he rinsed out the water bowl and asked quietly. “How are you doing, Spike?”

Spike glanced at her then focused on the bowl in his hand. “As well as can be expected, I suppose.”

“Is it all right if I give you a hug?”

Spike set the bowl in the sink and turned to face Joyce, lifting his good arm. She wrapped him in a gentle hug and whispered, “I’m so sorry. I should have been here.”

His voice was rough when he said, “Not your fault.”

She stood back and cupped his face in her hands. “It is, though. I shouldn’t have let Riley out of my sight. I should have made sure the window alarms were turned on. I should have done more to protect you. I’m so sorry, Spike.”

His eyes welled up and she pulled him into a hug again, settling his head on her shoulder as she murmured apologies into his hair.


End file.
